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THE 


ELEMENTS  OF  PSYCHOLOGY 


BY 

DAVID    R.    MAJOR 

PROFESSOR  OF  PSYCHOLOGY   IN  THE    OHIO  STATE    UNIVERSITY 


REVISED    EDITION 


CoIuntlniB,  C0- 

R.   G.  ADAMS  AND    COMPANY 

1914 


^S3         -^^^^y 


Copyright.  19!!,  1914. 
Bv    DAVID    R.   MAJOR 


The  Heer  Press 
Columbus,  Ohio 


BF 
131 


PREFACE  TO  THE  FIRST  EDITION. 

This  book  is  designed  to  serve  as  a  text  for  stu- 
dents who  are  pursuing  a  first  course  in  psychology. 
It  aims  to  present  in  an  elementary  way,  and  within 
a  small  compass,  the  more  easily  observed  facts  of 
our  mental  life  together  with  the  generally  accepted 
principles  of  their  explanation.  Its  field  is  chiefly 
the  study  of  the  normal,  adult,  human  mind,  and  so 
may  be  described  as  an  introduction  to  what  is 
known  as  General  Psychology. 

In  these  days,  'the  winter  of  our  discontent,'  the 
writer  of  a  first  book  in  psychology  may  follow  one 
of  three  courses :  he  may  appear  as  'the  champion 
of  the  structural  psychology'  or  as  the  advocate  of  a 
psychology  in  terms  of  behavior  or  he  may  proceed 
after  the  manner  of  the  eclectic,  without  special  re- 
gard to  the  systematic  agreement  of  the  topics  and 
matter  selected.  In  the  preparation  of  the  present 
text,  the  writer  followed  the  third  course,  and  a 
word  of  explanation  seems  in  place. 

It  is  clear  that  many  of  the  topics  that  belong  to 
an  introductory  survey  of  psychology  lend  them- 
selves easily  and  naturally  to  the  functional  method 
of  treatment,  while  certain  other  topics,  no  less  im- 
portant in  a  first  book,  invite  rather  a  structural 
treatment.  It  is  clear,  moreover,  that  the  student 
may  get  important  side  lights  from  the  biological, 
physiological,    genetic    and    other    points    of    view. 

(iii) 


IV  PREFACE 

With  these  facts  in  mind,  the  author  has  disregarded 
systematic  aims  and  has  incorporated  materials 
gathered  from  various  points  of  view.  He  will 
admit,  however,  that  such  a  course  is  not  without 
its  qualms;  and  he  will  not  be  surprised  if  the  com-, 
pounding  of  materials  gathered  from  various 
sources,  together  with  the  shifts  in  respect  to  psy- 
chological doctrine  involved  thereby,  should  prove 
disturbing  to  those  psychologists  to  whom  system, 
consistency,  and  completeness  are  both  inspiration 
and  guide.  At  the  same  time,  it  is  the  writer's  pres- 
ent belief  that  in  a  first  course  in  psychology  the 
student  should  be  permitted  to  follow  the  easier, 
the  more  natural  ways  of  approach;  and  that  the 
sharp  delimitation  of  points  of  view,  consistency, 
and  systematization  belong  rather  to  his  later  psy- 
chological achievements. 

A  word  of  explanation  of  the  relative  length  of  the 
chapter  on  "Consciousness  and  the  Nervous  Sys- 
tem," and  of  the  preponderance  of  anatomical  over 
physiological  matter  therein  may  be  required.  Psy- 
chologists are  agreed  that  the  successful  pursuit  of 
their  science  presupposes  at  least  an  elementary 
knowledge  of  the  structure  and  functions  of  the 
nervous  system;  but  they  differ  in  respect  to  who 
should  supply  this  knowledge.  Some  of  them  insist 
that  the  psychologist  'needs  all  of  the  time  at  his 
disposal  for  his  own  science,'  that  it  is  the  business 
of  the  physiologist  to  teach  neurology.  Certain 
others,  while  freely  granting  the  theoretical  sound- 
ness of  this  contention,  and  while  freely  admitting 
that  under  ideal  conditions  the  teacher  of  psychology 


PREFACE  V 

could  make  a  course  in  neurology  a  prerequisite  to 
his  own  courses,  point  out,  on  the  other  hand,  that 
under  the  present  organization  of  secondary'  and 
college  education  the  vast  majority  of  college  and 
normal  school  students  —  probably  seventy-five  per 
cent  on  the  average — come  to  psychology  with  little 
or  no  knowledge  of  the  nervous  system,  and  that  the 
teacher  of  psychology  must  either  supply  at  least 
a  working  basis  of  neurology,  or  he  must  exclude 
from  his  classes  students  who  lack  it.  Most  psy- 
chologists choose  the  former  course. 

In  view  of  these  facts  it  seemed  to  the  author 
pedagogically  desirable  to  include  a  brief  description 
of  the  structure  and  function  of  the  nervous  sys- 
tem ;  further,  that  this  description  should  begin 
with  gross  anatomy,  and  that  the  limits  of  the  de- 
scription of  finer  anatomy  and  physiology  should  be 
determined  by  the  requirements  of  the  later  discus- 
sions of  the  text.  This,  at  any  rate,  was  the  work- 
ing plan  of  the  chapter  under  review;  and,  in  the 
author's  experience  in  teaching  introductory  courses 
in  psychology,  the  plan  works  well.  The  author 
hopes  that  teachers  who  elect  to  use  this  text  and 
who  desire  to  extend  the  scope  and  to  vary  the  direc- 
tion of  their  physiological  and  histological  teaching, 
may  find  in  the  form  and  matter  of  the  chapter  a 
satisfactory  basis  therefor. 

It  is  a  pleasure  to  acknowledge  the  help  I  have 
received  in  the  preparation  of  the  book.  My  greatest 
indebtedness,  as  is  evident  in  nearly  every  chapter, 
is  to  the  writings  of  James  and  Titchener.  But  I 
have  also  drawn  freely  upon  the  writings  of  many 


VI  PREFACE 

other  authors,  and  I  gratefully  acknowledge  the  help 
received  from  them. 

My  colleague,  Professor  A.  E.  Davies,  has  given 
generously  of  his  time  to  the  discussion  of  the  var- 
ious topics  of  the  text  and  to  the  careful  revision 
of  the  manuscript  and  proofs.  I  am  greatly  indebted 
to  him  for  his  personal  help  and  friendly  criticism. 

I  am  also  under  obligation  to  my  colleagues,  Pro- 
fessors T.  H.  Haines,  G.  F.  Arps,  J.  A.  Leighton,  and 
A.  P.  Weiss,  Instructor  in  psychology,  for  their 
criticisms  of  certain  portions  of  the  manuscript,  and 
to  Mr,  Weiss  for  help  with  the  proofs. 

My  best  thanks  are  due  also  to  Mr.  Otto  Giesen, 
M.  A.,  for  drawing  a  large  number  of  the  figures  of 
the  text. 

Acknowledgments  are  due  to  the  following 
authors  and  publishers  for  permission  to  use  illus- 
trations from  their  works:  Professor  E.  B.  Titch- 
ener  and  The  Macmillan  Company,  publishers  of  his 
"Text-Book  of  Psychology";  Professor  C.  H.  Judd 
and  Charles  Scribner's  Sons,  publishers  of  his 
"Psychology" ;  Professor  H.  H.  Donaldson  and  Pro- 
fessor W.  H.  How^ell,  and  W.  B.  Saunders  and  Com- 
pany, publishers  of  "The  American  Text-Book  of 
Physiology"  and  "A  Text-Book  of  Physiology";  P. 
Blakiston's  Son  and  Company,  publishers  of 
Morris's  "Human  Anatomy". 


THE   OHIO  STATE   UNIVERSITY, 

October,  1912. 


PREFACE   TO   THE   SECOND   EDITION. 

In  the  revision  of  this  text,  many  paragraphs  and 
sections  have  been  rewritten,  a  number  of  new  para- 
graphs have  been  added,  two  new  figures  have  been 
introduced,  and  the  topics  in  several  of  the  chapters 
have  been  rearranged.  I  hope  that  these  changes 
mark  an  improvement,  especially  in  respect  to  clear- 
ness and  accuracy  of  statement,  and  in  the  service- 
ableness  of  the  book  as  a  teaching  instrument. 

It  is  a  pleasure  to  acknowledge  the  debt  of  grati- 
tude I  owe  to  my  friend  and  colleague.  Professor 

A.  E.  Davies,  for  his  never-failing  help  and  counsel 
in  the  preparation  of  the  revised  text.  I  am  also 
indebted  to  Professor  T.  L.  Bolton  of  the  University 
of  Montana,  and  to  Professor  0.  D.  Humphrey  of 
the  New  York  Training  School  for  Teachers, 
Jamaica,  N.  Y.,  for  valuable  suggestions  and 
criticisms.  I  am  also  indebted  to  Professor 
Humphrey  for  securing  the  permission  of  Professor 

B.  G.  Wilder,  of  Cornell  University,  to  use  figure 
4778,  of  his  article  in  volume  VIII,  of  "A  Reference 
Handbook  of  the  Medical  Sciences." 

My  thanks  are  due  to  my  pupils.  Miss  E.  E. 
Courtney  and  Miss  P.  C.  Salsberry,  for  help  in  cor- 
recting the  proofs ;  and  to  my  former  pupil,  Mr. 
Otto  Giesen,  for  drawing  figure  5. 

THE  OHIO  STATE  UNIVERSITY, 

March,  1914. 

fvii) 


CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

Chapter  I.     Introduction 1 

Psychology  Defined. 
Terminology. 

Typical  Divisions  of  the  Field  of  Psychology 
The  Methods  of  Psychology. 
Points  of  View  in  Psychology. 
The     Subject     Matter     of     an     Introductory 
Course  in  Psychology. 
References. 

Chapter  II.  Consciousness  and  the  Nervous  System     14 
General  View  of  the   Nervous   System. 
The  Brain. 
The  Medulla. 
The  Pons. 

The  Cerebral  Peduncles. 
The  Cerebellum. 
The  Cerebrum. 

The     Cerebral     Convolutions     and     Fis- 
sures. 
The  Cerebral   Lobes  and  Interlobar  Fis- 
sures. 
The  Cerebral  Cortex. 
The  White  Matter   of  the  Cerebrum. 
The  Three  Types  of  Cortical  Areas. 
Localization    of   the    Cerebral    Functions. 
The  Spinal  Cord. 

Functions   of   the    Spinal    Cord. 
The  Peripheral  Nervous   System. 
The  Cerebro-Spinal  Nerves. 
The  Cranial  Nerves. 
The  Spinal  Nerves. 
The   Sympathetic   Nervous   System. 
(ix) 


X  CONTENTS 

PAGE 

The  Neurone. 

The  Chief  Groups  of  Neurones. 
Sensory  Neurones  and  Sense  Organs. 
Free   Sensory   Endings. 
The  Encapsulated  Sensory  Endings. 
The  Special  Sense-Organs. 
Organs  of  Taste. 
Organ  of  Smell. 

Termination    of    Auditory    Nerve- 
Fibres. 
Termination  of  Optic  Nerve-Fibres 
The  Motor  Neurones  and  Motor  Organs. 
The  Associative  Neurones. 
References. 

Chapter  III.   Sensation  in  General  .      .     .      .     .      .68 

Definition. 

Sensations  as  Mental  Elements. 

Sensation  and   Sensory   Stimulus 

Sensation    and    Knowledge    of    the    outside 
World. 

Sensations   as  the  Earliest  Forms  of  Con- 
sciousness. 

Pure  Sensation. 

Differentiation    of    Sensory    Qualities. 

The  Attributes  of  Sensations. 

The   Classification  of  Sensations. 
References. 

Chapter   IV.    Classes   op   Sensations 82 

Visual   Sensations. 

Classes  of  Visual   Sensations. 

The  Color  Pyramid. 

Color  Mixture. 

Visual   After-images. 

Color-Blindness. 

The  Color  Zones  of  the  Retina. 


CONTENTS  XI 

PAGE. 

Auditory  Sensations. 

Nature  of  the  Stimulus. 

Classes  of  Auditory  Sensations. 

The  Attributes  of  Tones. 

Classes  of  Tones. 
Sensations  of  Smell. 

Organ  of  Smell. 

Olfactory    Stimulus. 

The    Relations    of    Olfactory    Sensations. 

Cassification   of    Olfactory    Sensations. 
Sensations  of  Taste. 

Organs  of  Taste. 

Classes    and    Relations    of    Taste    Sensa- 
tions. 
Cutaneous  Sensations. 

Sensations  of   Pressure. 

Sensations  of  Temperature. 

Sensation  of  Pain. 
The  Kinaesthetic  Senses. 

'Touch  Blends.' 
Organic  Sensations. 
References. 

Chapter    V.     Perception 116 

Perception  Defined. 

Perception  and   Sensation   Compared. 

The  Genesis  of  Perception. 

Variations  in  Perceptional  Stimuli. 

Variations     in     Perceptions    of    Particular 

Things. 
Illusions  of  Perception. 

Classes  of  Illusions. 

Equivocal  Figures. 
Hallucinations. 
References. 


Xll  CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Chapter  VI.  Mental  Images 137 

Percept  and  Image  Compared. 
'Image  and  Idea  Compared. 
Type  Images. 

Class  Images. 

Individual   Differences   in   Mental  Imagery. 
Types  of  Mental  Imagery. 
Symbol  Imagery. 

Kinds  of  Verbal  Imagery. 
The    Attributes    of    Characteristic    Images 
Differ. 
References. 

Chapter  VII.  Attention 161 

The  Nature  of  Attention. 
The  Conditions  of  Attention. 
The  Motor  Concomitants  of  Attention. 
The  Sensory  Concomitants  of  Attention. 
The  Degrees  of  Attention. 
The  Range  of  Attention. 
The  Forms  of  Attention. 
The  Popular  View  of  Attention. 
References. 

Chapter   VIII.    Association 185 

Associative  Connections. 
Variations   among  Associative   Complexes. 
Conditions   Favorable  to  the  Formation  of 
Associative  Complexes. 
References. 

Chapter  IX.   Memory 198 

Definition. 

The  Conditions  of  Memory. 

Retention. 

The  Process  of  Revival. 
The    Sequence   of   Imaginal    and    Ideational 

Processes. 


CONTEXTS  Xlll 

PAGE 
Spontaneous  Revival. 
Revival  through  Similarity. 
Active  and  Passive  recall   Distinguished. 
Memory  and  Imagery. 
Individual  Differences  in  Memory. 
Cramming. 
Prodigious  Memories. 
References. 

Chapter  X.  Imagination      ., 228 

Types  of  Imaginative  Activity. 
The  Limits  of  Imagination. 
Passive  and  Active  Imagination. 
The   Beginnings   of   Imagination. 
Individual  Differences  in  Imagination. 
References. 

Chapter  XI.  Thought  and  the  Thought-Processes    .     241 

The  General  Nature  of  Thinking. 

The  Thought  Processes  as  Functions. 

The  Thought  Processes. 

Thought  as  Ideation. 

Thought  as  Abstraction. 

Thought  as  Judgment. 

Judgment  as  Synthesis. 

Judgment  of  Objective  Relations. 

Relation  of  Ideation  and  Judgment. 

Judgment  and  Reasoning. 

Reasoning. 

Explicit  Reasoning. 

Reasoned  Judgments  and  Reasoning  Dis- 
tinguished. 

Implicit  Reasoning. 

Inductive  and  Deductive  Reasoning  Dis- 
tinguished. 

Thought's  Vehicles. 


XIV  CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Chapter  XII.  The  Thought  Processes  (continued)     .     269 

Comparison:     Conditions. 

Discrimination. 

Individual  Differences  in  Discrimination. 
Analysis  as  a  Thought  Process. 

The    Conditions    of    Analysis. 
Generalization. 
The  Beginnings  of  Thought. 
References. 

Chapter  XIII.    The    Feelings 289 

Meaning  of  the  Term  Feeling. 
The  Number  of  Kinds  of  Feeling. 
The  Mental   Conditions  of  the  Feeling's. 
The  Neural  Correlates  of  the  Feelings. 
Feeling  and  Habit. 
Feeling  and  Association. 
Transference  of  Feeling. 
References. 

Chapter    XIV.    Emotion 315 

The  Distinctive  Mark  of  Emotion. 
The  Factors  of  Emotion. 
The  'James-Lange  Theory'  of  Emotion. 
The  Genesis  of  Emotional   Reactions. 
References. 

Chapter  XV.  The  Sentiments 333 

Meaning  of  the  Term  Sentiment. 
Sentiment  and  Emotion  Compared. 
The  Intellectual  Sentiments. 
The  Moral   Sentiments. 
The  Aesthetic  Sentiment. 
References. 


CONTENTS  XV 

PAGE 

Chapter  XVI.   Coxsciousxess  axd  Action      .      .      .      351 

Automatic  Movements. 

Reflex   Actions. 

Instinct  and  Instinctive  Action:   Definition. 

Instinctive  and  Reflex  Action  Compared. 

Instinctive     and     Volitional     Action     Com- 
pared. 

Instinct  and  Habit. 

Instinct   and    Emotion. 

Characteristics  of  Instincts. 

The    Principal    Instincts    and    their    Class- 
ification. 

Individualistic  Instincts. 
Parental  or  Racial  Instincts. 
Social  Instincts. 
Secondary  Adaptive  Instincts. 
Derived  Instincts. 

Habit:    Definition. 

Conditions   of  Habit-Formation. 
Habit  and  Instinct. 

The  Nature  of  Voluntary  Action. 
Deliberation. 
Decision. 

The  Consciousness  of  Effort. 
Conditions  of  Effort. 

Internal  Volitional  Activity. 
References. 

Index   of   Names    and    Subjects 405 

Index    of    Figures 412 


ELEMENTS  OF  PSYCHOLOGY 


CHAPTER  I 

INTRODUCTION 

Psychology  Defined. —Psychology,  the  science  of 
consciousness,  undertakes  to  describe  and  to  explain 
such  things  as  memories,  imaginings,  hopes,  fears, 
feelings,  desires,  aversions,  impulses,  volitions,  and 
the  like. 

Terminology.  —  Psychologists  use  a  number  of  technical 
terms  and  expressions  to  designate  the  subject  matter  of 
their  science,  and  it  is  well  for  the  student  of  psychology 
to  become  acquainted  with  them  early  in  his  course. 

The  terms  'mind'  and  'consciousness',  in  their  broadest 
meaning,  include  all  mental  processes  irrespective  both  of 
their  nature  and  the  conditions  of  their  occurrence.  'Con- 
sciousness' is  also  used  in  a  narrow  sense  to  mean  a  single 
mental  experience.  Thus  a  memory,  an  image,  an  anger,  a 
desire,  a  choice,  a  pain  sensation,  a  feeling,  may  each  be 
spoken  of  as  a  consciousness. 

Expressions  which  mean  the  same  thing  as  conscious- 
ness in  the  narrow  sense,  are  formed  by  coupling  either 
conscious,  mental,  or  psychical,  with  either  'process',  'phenom- 
enon', 'fact',  'experience',  or  'state',  as  follows:  conscious 
process,  mental  experience,  psychical  phenomenon,  and  so 
on.  Other  equivalents  of  'consciousness'  may  be  obtained 
by  combining  any  one  of  the  words — process,  phenomenon, 
or  fact — with  either,  'of  mental  life',  'of  consciousness',  of 
psychical  life',  or  'of  mental  experience'.  Thus  we  have  the 
expressions — process  of  mental  life,  phenomenon  of  psych- 
ical life,  fact  of  mental  experience,  and  so  on,  used  synon- 
ymously   with    'consciousness'    in    its    narrower    meaning. 

(1) 


2  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

Which  one  of  the  terms  just  mentioned  shall  be  used  in  a 
given  case  depends  upon  the  writer's  convenience,  his  desire 
for  variety  of  expression,  or  his  individual  preference. 

It  may  be  added  that  the  term  'psychosis'  was  proposed 
by  the  English  scientist,  Huxley,  as  a  synonym  for  'con- 
scious process',  and  that  it  is  in  high  favor  with  certain 
authors. 

Typical  Divisions  of  the  Field  of  Psychology.  — 
The  province  of  psychology  is  so  wide  and  the  in- 
terests of  psychologists  are  so  varied  that  the  entire 
field  is  now  divided,  for  pui'poses  of  study,  into  a 
large  number  of  smaller  fields,  or  departments. 
There  is,  however,  considerable  diversity  among  the 
classifications  and  subdivisions  that  have  been  pro- 
posed. This  diversity  is  due,  no  doubt,  to  the  fact 
that  no  single  principle  of  classification  has  been 
advanced  which  is  broad  enough  to  meet  the  require- 
ments of  psychologists  who  approach  the  problem 
from  different  points  of  view.  Accordingly,  current 
classifications  reflect  and  are  controlled  by  the  spe- 
cial interests  or  points  of  view  of  the  individual  psy- 
chologists who  make  them. 

The  typical  primary,  or  fundamental,  divisions  of 
the  field  of  psychology  are:  (a)  normal  and  abnor- 
mal, (b)  human  and  animal,  (c)  social  and  indi- 
vidual psychology.  The  first  division  is  based 
upon  the  fact  that  the  conscious  processes  of  the 
individual  members  of  the  various  animal  species, 
or  of  particular  groups  of  organisms  (such  as  a 
company  of  men  or  a  herd  of  animals)  are,  as  a 
rule,  uniform  in  nature,  in  mode  of  activity,  in 
manner  of  development,  and  in  physical  conditions. 
When  a  given  mental  process,  or  group  of  mental 


INTRODUCTION  6 

processes,  conforms  to  this  general  uniformity,  it  is 
said  to  be  normal ;  when  it  departs  from  it,  abnormal. 
According  to  this  principle  of  classification,  certain 
psychologists  divide  the  entire  field  of  psychology 
into  Normal  and  Abnormal  Psychology. 

Another  group  of  psychologists  are  interested 
mainly  in  the  differences  between  the  mental  life  of 
human  beings  and  that  of  the  lower  animals,  and 
so,  in  their  scheme  of  classification,  make  the  divi- 
sion of  psychology  into  Human  and  Animal  the 
fundamental  one. 

A  third  class  of  students  are  interested  most  in 
the  mental  life  of  human  and  animal  societies,  in 
the  influence  of  group  life  on  the  mental  experiences 
of  men  and  of  animals,  and  in  the  contrast  between 
the  mental  life  of  groups  of  individuals,  e.  g.,  in 
societies,  crowds,  mobs,  flocks,  herds,  and  the  men- 
tal life  of  the  individual  members  when  they  are 
relatively  free  from  social  influences.  This  group 
of  interests  gives  rise  to  the  two  great  divisions  of 
Social,  or  Collective,  and  Individual  Psychology. 

We  have  noted  three  typical  primary  divisions  of 
the  field  of  psychology.  The  manner  in  which  the 
field  may  be  further  subdivided  is  indicated  by  the 
following  table,  which  is  based  upon  Titchener's 
Classification:^ 


1  A  Text-Book  of  Psychology,  1910,  S  7  ;    also  p.  43  ff. 

The  divisions  and  sub-divisions  siven  herein  belong-  to  what  is 
known  as  'pure'  psychology  in  contrast  with  the  field  of  'applied' 
pgycholopry,  meaninp  by  the  latter  the  applications  of  the  facts 
and  laws  of  pure  psycholos^y  to  the  practical  problems  of  social 
control  — education,  medicine,  business,  legal  procedure,  politics  — 
in  short,  to  those  arts  which  undertake  to  influence  the  actions  of 
human  beings. 


ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 


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INTRODUCTION  5 

The  Methods  of  Psychology.  —  Psychology  employs 
two  methods  of  studying  consciousness;  the  direct 
and  the  indirect.  By  the  direct  method  is  meant  the 
examination  of  our  own  mental  experiences.  Thus, 
when  we  compare  our  images  of  given  colors,  or  the 
intensity  of  two  sound  sensations,  when  we  examine 
carefully  our  motives  for  a  given  line  of  conduct, 
when  we  observe  that  we  attend  to  one  class  of 
objects  and  not  to  another,  we  are  studying  con- 
sciousness by  the  direct  method.  By  this  method 
the  student  may  answer,  at  least  roughly,  such  ques- 
tions as : 

1.  How  do  I  know  that  the  sound  which  I  hear  is  the 
whistle  of  a  locomotive? 

2.  How  do  I  set  about  recalling  a  forgotten  name? 

3.  How  do  my  experiences  of  anger  differ  from  my 
fears? 

4.  Why  is  it  so  easy  for  me  to  attend  to  some  things 
and   so  difficult  to   attend  to  others? 

5.  Why  does  the  sight  of  the  letter  A  recall  its  name? 

6.  Can  I  see  in  my  mind's  eye  my  break-fast  table? 
Are  its  various  features  distinct  or  indistinct,  clear  or  dim, 
bright  or  dull? 

7.  What  are  my  sense-experiences  in  a  given  five-min- 
ute period? 

The  indirect  method  is  employed  when  we  study 
consciousnesses  through  their  signs  or  products.  For 
example,  we  judge  from  certain  signs  or  expressions 
that  a  man  is  angry,  or  frightened,  or  grieved ;  that 
a  child  wishes  a  given  article  or  does  not  wish  it; 
that  one  dog  is  friendly  or  hostile  toward  another; 
that  a  person  is  experiencing  delusions  of  persecu- 
tion; that  a  crowd  of  people  have  lost  their  wits; 


6  ELEMENTS  OF  PSYCHOLOGY 

and  from  the  ceremonies,  rituals  and  customs  of 
peoples,  savage  and  civilized,  we  infer  that  they 
have  certain  beliefs,  fears,  hopes,  ideals  and  life 
purposes. 

We  cannot  draw  a  sharp  distinction  between  the 
signs  of  conscious  processes  and  the  products  of 
those  processes.  But,  speaking  broadly,  the  term 
"mental  production"  means  something  which  con- 
sciousnesses produce  through  their  relation  to  the 
muscles  of  the  body,  particularly  those  of  the  hands 
and  arms,  and  those  of  the  organs  of  speech.  For 
example,  buildings  of  all  kinds,  dwellings,  school- 
houses,  business  blocks,  chapels,  churches,  temples 
are  mental  products  in  this  sense,  and  so  give  us 
insight  into  the  minds  of  their  designers  and  build- 
ers. Works  of  art  —  music,  painting,  sculpture, 
poetry,  oratory  —  institutions,  customs,  laws,  lan- 
guages, either  of  individuals  or  of  groups  of  indi- 
viduals, are  mental  creations  and  so  are  revelations, 
in  some  measure,  of  the  nature  of  the  mental  life  of 
their  creators.  The  text-books  the  student  is  using, 
the  lectures  he  is  hearing  from  day  to  day,  the  chem- 
ical formulae,  the  literary  or  historical  interpreta- 
tions, the  scientific  facts  or  laws  and  their  applica- 
tions, are  mental  products,  and  in  so  far  as  the  stu- 
dent masters  them  and  in  so  far  as  he  is  able  to 
think  of  them  as  mental  productions,  he  is  gaining 
an  insight  into  the  nature  of  the  mental  activities 
of  human  beings. 

It  may  be  observed  next  that  the  field  in  which 
the  direct  method  is  employed  is  comparatively 
small,  being  limited  to  the  study  of  the  normal. 


INTRODUCTION  7 

human,  civilized  adult  mind.  The  animal  mind,  the 
undeveloped  mind,  the  collective  mind,  and,  usually, 
the  abnormal  mind,  are  studied  by  the  indirect 
method,  i.  e.,  by  interpreting  their  signs  and  prod- 
ucts. 

Although  the  direct  method  of  studying  mental 
phenomena  is  relatively  limited  in  the  range  of  its 
application,  it  is  the  'primary  and  the  most  impor- 
tant method  of  gaining  knowledge  concerning  such 
phenomena.  Since  its  results  are  more  reliable  than 
those  obtained  by  the  indirect  method  —  we  know 
our  own  mental  life  better  than  we  can  know  that 
of  others  —  and  since  we  interpret  the  signs  of  the 
conscious  processes  of  others  by  reference  to  our 
knowledge  of  the  relationship  between  our  own  con- 
scious states  and  their  expression,  the  direct  method 
is  sometimes  described  as  the  psychological  method 
par  excellence.  This  fact,  as  we  shall  see  in  a  later 
paragraph,  has  an  important  bearing  upon  the  ques- 
tion of  where,  with  what  department,  one's  study 
of  psychology  should  begin. 

Points  of  View  in  Psychology.  —  The  study  of  con- 
sciousness may  be  approached  from  any  one  of  five 
points  of  view.  According  to  one  —  the  'structural', 
as  it  is  called  —  conscious  processes  are  either  men- 
tal elements,  so-called,  or  are  compounds  of  such 
elements.  Accordingly,  from  this  point  of  view,  the 
psychologist  undertakes  to  determine  the  exact  num- 
ber of  the  elementary  mental  processes,  to  describe 
and  to  explain  them;  he  also  undertakes  the  anal- 
ysis of  complex  mental  experiences,  e.  g.,  percep- 
tions, memories,  emotions,  choices,  in  order  to  deter- 


8  ELEMENTS   OF  PSYCHOLOGY 

mine  the  number,  character,  and  order  of  arrange- 
ment of  their  constituent  parts. 

But  the  enumeration,  description,  and  explanation 
of  the  elementary  mental  processes  and  the  analysis 
of  complex  mental  states  into  their  components  is 
only  one  part  of  the  undertaking  from  the  structural 
point  of  view.  It  involves  still  further  the  descrip- 
tion and  the  explanation  of  the  ways  in  which  given 
conscious  elements  combine  so  as  to  form  complex 
conscious  experiences,  e.  g.,  perceptions,  imagina- 
tions, emotions,  volitions,  and  so  on.  The  aim  in 
this  case  is  to  answer  such  questions  as :  What  are 
the  factors  and  what  the  conditions  of  their  combi- 
nation in  one's  perception  of  a  given  landscape,  or 
in  one's  memory  of  a  ball  game?  What  elements 
combine  and  in  what  order  and  in  what  proportions 
to  make  up  the  emotions  of  fear  or  anger?  The 
enumeration,  description,  and  explanation  of  the 
elements  of  consciousness  and  the  exposition  of  the 
laws  of  their  combination  thus  constitute  the  two 
principal  psychological  problems  from  the  structural 
point  of  view. 

The  term  'analysis',  which  plays  so  large  a  part  in  the 
literature  of  structural  psychology,  was  borrowed  very  likely 
from  chemistry.  But  it  should  be  carefully  noted  that  the 
chemist  and  psychologist  do  not  use  the  term  in  precisely 
the  same  sense.  The  chemist  actually  analyzes  many  chem- 
ical compounds  into  their  elements,  so  that  each  element  ex- 
ists apart  and  is  studied  as  a  thing  by  itself.  The  'analysis' 
of  the  psychologist,  on  the  other  hand,  is  more  like  that  of 
the  student  of  elementary  botany,  who,  without  in  the  least 
disturbing  the  structure  of  the  flower,  observes  that  it  is 
composed  of  sepals,  petals,  stamen,  or  pistil.     The  analysis 


INTRODUCTION  9 

which  the  psychologist  makes  of  a  mental  experience  is  not 
a  literal  picking  the  experience  to  pieces;  it  is  rather  an 
enumeration  of  its  several  features,  it  is  attending  now  to 
one  part  or  aspect,  now  to  another. 

From  the  first  point  of  view,  interest  centers  in 
the  structure  or  composition  of  consciousness,  in 
the  nature  of  the  conscious  elements,  and  the  laws 
of  their  combination.  From  a  second  point  of  view, 
we  may  study  mental  functions  or  mental  activities. 
In  this  case,  the  primary  aim  is  (1)  to  enumerate, 
to  describe  and  classify  the  various  forms  of  mental 
activity;  (2)  to  set  forth  the  laws  of  their  appear- 
ance; and  (3)  to  give  an  account  of  their  relations 
to  one  another.  This  point  of  view,  when  taken 
broadly,  may  include  also  an  account  of  the  part 
which  mental  processes  play  in  the  lives  of  indi- 
viduals or  in  the  activities  of  groups  of  individuals. 

'Functional  psychology',  as  this  way  of  studying  our 
mental  life  is  usually  called,  undertakes  to  furnish  answers 
to  such  questions  as— how  does  memory  differ  from  im- 
agination? how  do  perceptions  differ  from  images?  why 
do  we  remember  certain  of  the  events  of  our  past  lives  and 
forget  others?  why  do  the  words,  "the  first  President  of  the 
United  States"  suggest  'Washing-ton'?  why  do  some  objects 
attract  our  attention  while  others  are  overlooked?  how  do 
we  learn  to  spell,  to  repeat  conjugations  and  to  add  columns 
of  figures?  how  do  such  instincts  as  curiosity,  pugnacity  and 
manipulation  affect  their  possessor's  conduct? 

In  the  third  place,  we  may  study  mental  phenom- 
ena from  the  genetic  point  of  view.  In  this  case 
we  may  study  either  the  growth  and  development 
of  the  mental  functions  and  capacities  of  individ- 
uals  (human  or  animal)   or  we  may  be  concerned 


10  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

with  the  larger  problems  of  the  evolution  of  mind 
in  the  human  race  or  in  the  animal  series.  In  the 
one  case,  an  effort  is  made  to  trace  the  order  of 
appearance  of  the  various  mental  functions  of  the 
individual,  e.  g.,  seeing,  hearing,  recognizing,  re- 
membering, imagining,  judging,  willing,  and  so  on, 
and  to  determine  the  facts  and  laws  of  their  devel- 
opment. In  the  second  case,  we  are  concerned  with 
the  mental  life  of  man  and  of  the  lower  animals  at 
different  levels  of  development,  and  an  effort  is 
made  to  determine  what  mental  functions  and 
capacities  appear  at  the  different  stages  of  biolog- 
ical evolution,  in  what  order  they  make  their  appear- 
ance, and  under  what  conditions.  These  various 
interests  in  the  phenomena  of  the  growth  and  the 
development  of  mental  functions  are  grouped  under 
the  title  —  Genetic  Psychology. 

From  a  fourth  point  of  view,  we  may  inquire  con- 
cerning the  general  utility  of  consciousness,  the 
purposes  which  it  serves  in  the  individual  life  or  in 
the  life  of  the  race;  or  more  particularly,  we  may 
ask  how  a  given  mental  experience  helps  or  hinders 
its  possessor  in  getting  along  in  the  world.  For 
example,  what  is  the  biological  value  of  seeing  and 
hearing?  what  is  the  function  of  memory  in  adapt- 
ing an  organism  to  its  environment?  what  purposes 
do  the  feelings  of  pleasantness  and  unpleasantness 
serve?  or  of  what  use,  from  the  point  of  view  of 
an  individual's  welfare,  are  his  various  emotional 
and  instinctive  responses?  The  science  which  treats 
of  the  purposes  which  consciousness  serves  in  the 


INTRODUCTION  11 

struggle  for  existence  is  called  Biological,  or  Teleo- 
logical,  Psychology. 

In  the  fifth  place,  we  may  study  consciousness 
from  the  point  of  view  of  the  two  closely  related 
sciences  of  Psychophysics  and  Physiological  Psy- 
chology. From  the  standpoint  of  the  former,  we 
inquire  concerning  the  relationship  between  our 
mental  experiences,  especially  our  sensations,  and 
the  given  physical  processes  with  which  they  are 
correlated.  From  the  point  of  view  of  Physiological 
Psychology,  attention  centers  on  the  structure  and 
functions  of  the  sense-organs,  and  upon  those  parts 
and  activities  of  the  nervous  system  which  sub- 
serve, in  a  special  way,  our  mental  life. 

Summary.  —  Structural  Psychology  is  the  science 
of  the  structure  of  consciousness  and  conscious 
processes;  Functional  Psychology  is  the  science  of 
mental  activities ;  Genetic  Psychology  concerns  itself 
with  the  phenomena  Of  mental  development  and 
evolution;  Biological  Psychology  describes  the  uses 
which  mental  processes  serve  in  adapting  an  organ- 
ism or  group  of  organisms  to  its  environment. 
Psychophysics  and  Physiological  Psychology  study 
consciousness  in  relation  to  its  physical  and  physio- 
logical conditions  and  concomitants. 

The  Subject-matter  of  an  Introductory  Course  in 
Psychology.  —  A  survey  of  the  scope  of  psychology, 
even  such  as  is  made  in  the  preceding  pages,  makes 
it  clear  that  we  cannot  hope  to  cover  the  entire  field 
in  an  introductory  course;  we  must  select  some  one 
department  or  aspect  of  the  entire  subject.  It  will 
be  granted  further  that  we  should  begin  with  those 


12  ELEMENTS   OF  PSYCHOLOGY 

topics  that  are  truly  introductory  and  fundamental 
to  our  later  psychological  studies. 

Perhaps,  because  of  his  practical  interests  or  be- 
cause of  his  interest  in  the  strange  and  marvelous 
aspects  of  mental  life,  the  student  would  prefer  to 
begin  at  once  with  the  practical  and  curious  ques- 
tions, as,  for  example:  What  makes  us  dream? 
What  is  hypnotism?  How  can  one  improve  his 
memory?  Do  animals  reason?  What  is  the  psy- 
chology of  successful  advertising?  What  causes  de- 
lusions of  grandeur  in  certain  forms  of  insanity? 
and  so  on.  Now  these,  and  hundreds  of  kindred 
questions,  are  legitimate  enough  in  their  place,  but 
their  place,  as  experience  has  abundantly  proved,  is 
not  in  an  introductory  survey,  except  as  they  arise 
incidentally  in  the  pursuit  of  the  main  business  of 
such  a  course. 

What,  then,  should  be  the  nature  of  a  first  course 
in  psychology?  The  answer  which  is  usually  given 
to  this  question  is :  a  first  course  in  psychology 
should  be  General  Psychology ;  and  by  General  Psy- 
chology is  meant  a  study  of  the  normal,  adult  human 
consciousness  with  reference:  (1)  to  its  structure, 
or  internal  constitution;  (2)  to  its  modes  of  activity; 
(3)  to  its  physical  conditions  or  concomitants.  Inci- 
dental to  these  three  ways  of  regarding  its  subject 
matter,  an  introductory  course  may  properly  in- 
clude, so  far  as  they  have  been  scientifically  deter- 
mined, the  facts  and  laws  relative  to  the  origin  and 
development  of  mental  functions  and  capacities  in 
the  individual  and  in  the  race,  and  also  an  account 


INTRODUCTION  13 

of  the  purposes  or  uses  which  mental  processes 
serve  in  the  general  life  activities  of  an  organism  or 
of  a  group  of  organisms. 

REFERENCES 

Angell:   Psychology,  4th  Edition,  1908,  Ch.  I. 
Judd:   Psychology,  1907,   Ch.  I. 
Stout:  A  Manual  of  Psychology,  1899,  Chs.  I,  II. 
Titchener:  a  Text-Book  of  Psychology,  1910,  §§1-9. 
Yerkes:  Introduction  to  Psychology,  1911,  Part  1. 


CHAPTER  II 

CONSCIOUSNESS  AND  THE   NERVOUS  SYSTEM 

Everyday  observation  teaches  that  the  course  of 
our  mental  life  bears  a  very  close  relationship  to 
the  bodily  organism  and  the  various  processes 
which  constitute  its  life.  Thus,  it  is  well  known 
that  our  sense  experiences  —  seeing,  hearing,  tast- 
ing, smelling,  for  example  —  depend  upon  the  activ- 
ities of  certain  sense  organs ;  that  feelings  of  pleas- 
antness and  unpleasantness  are  often  connected 
with  definite  bodily  changes;  that  the  physiological 
effects  of  certain  substances  like  alcohol,  opium, 
tobacco,  coffee  and  tea,  are  frequently  accompanied 
by  marked  changes  in  consciousness ;  finally,  that 
certain  bodily  diseases  often  produce  characteristic 
changes  in  the  mental  life  of  the  patient.  Familiar 
observations  of  this  character  underlie  the  common 
belief  that  many  of  the  phenomena  of  consciousness 
are  dependent  upon  changes  in  the  bodily  organism. 
There  are,  on  the  other  hand,  many  bodily  changes 
which  common  opinion  attributes  to  the  infiuence  of 
the  mind.  Thus  the  mind  is  supposed  to  be  able  to 
control  freely  the  gross  movements  of  the  body,  to 
cause  it  to  move  as  a  whole  or  to  remain  at  rest,  to 
move  certain  parts  or  to  keep  them  quiet,  to  look  or 
to  turn  away,  to  listen  or  to  turn  a  deaf  ear.  Again, 
common  observation  seems  to  teach  that  the  con- 
scious  processes   known   as   emotions,   e.   g.,   fear, 

(14) 


CONSCIOUSNESS  AND  THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM      15 

grief,  anger,  joy,  cause  conspicuous  bodily  disturb- 
ances, and  that  mental  agitation  or  depression,  as 
in  the  manias  and  melancholias,  has  a  direct  effect 
on  the  bodily  processes,  particularly  those  of  respi- 
ration, circulation,  and  digestion. 

This  body  of  knowledge  or  belief  concerning  the 
relation  of  our  mental  life  to  its  physical  basis  has 
been  the  common  property  of  thinking  men  for  a 
very  long  time,  certainly  from  the  time  of  the  ear- 
liest Hebrew  and  Greek  writers.  It  is,  however, 
only  in  the  recent  centuries  that  an  effort  has  been 
made  to  show  in  detail  the  nature  of  this  connection, 
to  clear  up  obscurities,  to  weed  out  superstition  and 
error,  and  to  ground  theory  on  verified  facts ;  and  it 
is  generally  conceded  that  the  results  of  this  effort 
constitute  one  of  the  most  notable  achievements  of 
modern  scientific  endeavor.  It  is,  however,  no  part 
of  our  present  undertaking  to  trace  even  in  outline 
the  history  of  opinion  in  reference  to  the  relation- 
ship between  the  mind  and  the  body.  We  shall  come 
at  once  to  the  modern  teaching  on  this  subject,  which 
is  that  our  mental  life  is  intimately  related  to,  and 
dependent  upon,  changes  in  the  nervous  system. 
This  doctrine  is  usually  summed  up  in  the  law  of 
psycho-neural  correlation,  namely,  that  every  men- 
tal process  is  accompanied  by  a  neural  process,  a 
change  in  the  nervous  system ;  or,  to  use  a  phrase 
coined  by  Huxley — every  psychosis  has  its  neurosis. 
This  law,  which  is  now  supported  by  a  mass  of  evi- 
dence so  convincing  that  there  is  little  likelihood  that 
it  will  require  revision  in  any  important  respect, 


Fig.   1.     Diagram  showing  the  general   arrangement  of  the   human 
nervous   system.      (After    Martin,    modified.) 

(16) 


CONSCIOUSNESS  AND  THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM      17 

forms  the  chief  stone  of  the  corner  of  the  modern 
theory  of  the  physical  basis  of  mental  life. 

General  View  of  the  Nervous  System,  —  The  re- 
mainder of  this  chapter  will  consist  mainly  of  the 
study  of  a  carefully  selected  series  of  figures  and 
drawings  illustrative  of  those  features  of  the  struc- 
ture and  function  of  the  nervous  system  which  are 
of  interest  in  an  introductory  course  in  psychology. 
The  chief  purpose  of  the  descriptive  matter  of  the 
text  is  to  aid  the  student  in  his  examination  and 
understanding  of  the  figures.^  The  latter  fall  into 
three  classes:  (1)  those  intended  to  give  a  view  of 
the  general  arrangement  of  the  human  nervous  sys- 
tem and  some  idea  of  the  gross  anatomy  of  its  prin- 
cipal parts;  (2)  a  series  of  figures  which  relate  to  its 
minute  anatomy,  or  finer  structure;  (3)  a  third 
series  is  intended  to  illustrate  the  simpler  functions 
and  activities  of  the  nervous  system. 

Figure  1  gives  some  idea  of  the  general  arrange- 
ment of  the  principal  parts  of  the  nervous  system, 
three  features  of  which  may  be  noted  in  the  figure : 
(1)  the  brain  enclosed  within  the  cranium;  (2)  the 
spinal  cord  in  the  spinal  column;  (3)  the  large  nerve 
trunks  leading  from  the  brain  and  spinal  cord  to  all 
parts  of  the  body.  By  the  aid  of  the  microscope  the 
anatomist  is  enabled  to  follow  the  divisions  of  the 
nerves  into  smaller  and  smaller  branches,  even  down 
to  the  nerve  fibers  of  which  the  nerves  are  composed, 
and  even  to  the  bifurcations  of  the  nerve  fibers  be- 


i  Note.      In    order   to    avoid    confusing;    details    the    figures    have 
been,  in  most  cases,  greatly  simplified. 


Ckxcweal 
Nerve 

Fig.   2.     Ventral    aspect    of    the    central    nervous    system.       (After 

Morris.) 

.       (18) 


CONSCIOUSNESS  AND  THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM      19 

fore  they  terminate  in  the  sense-organs,  glands, 
muscles,  tendons,  and  other  structures.  In  reference 
to  the  intimacy  of  the  connection  of  all  the  parts  of 
the  human  nervous  system  and  the  extensiveness  of 
its  distribution,  Hardesty  writes:  "Could  all  the 
other  tissues  of  the  body  be  dissolved  away,  still 
there  would  be  left  in  gossamer  its  form  and  pro- 
portions —  a  phantom  of  the  body  composed  entirely 
of  nerves." 

Anatomists  usually  refer  to  the  nervous  system 
as  consisting  of  two  main  divisions:  (1)  The  cen- 
tral nervous  system  (the  cerebro-spinal  axis),  com- 
posed of  (a)  the  brain,  and  (b)  the  spinal  cord; 
(2)  the  peripheral  nervous  system,  composed  of  (a) 
the  cerebro-spinal  nerves,  and  (b)  the  sympathetic 
nervous  system.  The  student  should  remember, 
however,  that  this  division  is  only  for  convenience 
in  description,  and  that  in. fact  all  parts  of  the  ner- 
vous system  are  intimately  related  functionally. 
Figure  2  shows  (a)  the  central  nervous  system 
(brain  and  spinal  cord)  ;  (b)  portions  of  the  cere- 
bro-spinal nerves_originating  in  the  brain  and  spinal 
cord,  and  (c)  one  of  the  ganglionated  cords  of  the 
sympathetic  system  attached  (on  the  left  side  as 
one  looks  at  the  figure)  to  the  spinal  nerves.  The 
brain  is  lifted  up  and  backward  from  its  usual  hori- 
zontal position. 

The  Brain.  —  The  brain  is  that  part  of  the  central 
nervous  system  which  lies  within  the  skull,  or,  more 
exactly,  it  is  that  portion  of  the  cerebro-spinal  axis 
which  lies  in  front  of  or  above  the  level  of  the  first 
pair  of  spinal  nerves.    We  have  seen  that  the  spinal 


20 


ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 


cord  and  the  parts  composing  the  brain  are  struc- 
turally continuous.  The  line  separating  them  is 
therefore  chosen  somewhat  arbitrarily.  Figure  3, 
a  drawing  of  the  brain  as  seen  from  below,  is  in- 


cerebral 
peduncle. 


hypo- 
glossal 
nerve. 


medulla. 


cerebellum. 


olfac.   bulb, 
olfac.  tract, 
op.  nerve,  cut 
optic 

commissure, 
op.  tract. 

oculo-motor 
nerve. 

trochlear  n. 

tria:eminal 

nerve. 

abducent  n. 
facial  nerve, 
auditory  n. 
fflosso-phar. 
nerve. 

pneumo- 
Rastric  n. 
part  spinal 
accessory  n. 


pyramidal 
decussation. 

pt.  spinal 
accessory. 


occipital 
lobe. 


spinal 
cord. 


Fig.    3.     Inferior    aspect    of    Brain,    showing    superficial    origins    of 
all    the    cranial    nerves    except    the    trochlear. 


tended  to  show  the  relative  positions  of  the  five 
parts  composing  it,  namely,  the  medulla,  the  pons, 
the  cerebral  peduncles  (crura  cerebri),  the  cerebel- 
lum, and  the  cerebrum.     The  first  three  —  the  me- 


CONSCIOUSNESS  AND  THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM      21 

dulla,  pons,  and  cerebral  peduncles — together  make 
up  the  brain-stem,  which  is  primarily  a  great  path- 
way between  the  cerebrum  and  cerebellum,  and  be- 
tween these  two  parts  and  the  spinal  cord.  The 
two  latter,  the  cerebrum  and  the  cerebellum,  con- 
tain the  centers  correlated  with  sensation,  motor 
excitation,  and  the  higher  mental  processes.  We 
may  consider  briefly  the  chief  points  of  structure 
and  function  of  each  of  the  five  divisions  of  the 
brain  just  named. 

The  Medulla.  —  Superficially  regarded,  the  medulla 
appears  to  be  a  continuation  of  the  spinal  cord  and 
extends  from  the  foramen  magnum,  the  opening  at 
the  base  of  the  skull,  to  the  lower  margin  of  the  pons 
above,  a  distance  of  about  one  inch.  (See  Fig.  3.) 
The  m.edulla  is  of  interest  mainly  because  it  is  the 
center^^'cohtfoT  of  the  organs  of  circulation  and 
respiration  and  because  in  it  occurs  the  decussation 
of  pyramids  —  strands  of  nerve  fibers,  whereby  the 
principal  motorlflbers,  in  their  passage  from  the 
cortex  oTthe~cerebral  hemispTieres  to  the  spinal  cord, 
suddenly  cross  to  the  opposite  side  of  the  medulla 
and  enter  the  spinal  cord  on  the  opposite  side  from 
which  they  arose  in  the  cerebrum^ 

The^Pdns".  — The^pons  Varolii  appears  as  a  great 
prominence,  quadrilateral  in  shape  when  viewed 
from  in  front,  lying  between  the  medulla  below  and 
the  cerebral  peduncles  above,  and  between  the  two 
parts  of  the  cerebellum,  and  is  sometimes  called  the 
bridge  of  the  brain.  (See  Fig.  3.)  Its  chief  func- 
tions appear  to  be  to  connect  the  two  parts  of  the 
cerebellum  with  each  other,  to  connect  the  cerebel- 


22  ELEMENTS   OF  PSYCHOLOGY 

lum  with  the  brain-stem,  and  to  form  a  pathway 
between  the  cerebellum  and  the  cerebrum. 

Cerebral  Peduncles.  —  The  cerebral  peduncles,  the 
principal  divisions  of  the  mid-brain,  appear,  when 
the  brain  is  viewed  from  below,  to  consist  of  two 
thickish  stalks  which  emerge  from  the  upper  border 
of  the  pons  and  pass  each  to  one  side  and  upward 
to  enter  the  cerebral  hemispheres.  (See  Fig.  3.) 
The  peduncles  consist  of  sensory  and  motor  fibers 
running  between  the  cortex  of  the  cerebrum  and  the 
lower  parts  of  the  brain — the  cerebellum  and  pons — 
and  the  spinal  cord.  Their  chief  function,  accord- 
ingly, is  to  serve  as  a  pathway  between  these  parts 
of  the  central  system. 

The  Cerebellum.  —  The  cerebellum,  or  "little 
brain"  or  "hind  brain,"  as  it  is  sometimes  called 
(Fig.  3) ,  lies  behind  the  pons  and  medulla  and  below 
the  posterior  portion  of  the  cerebrum,  from  which 
it  is  separated  by  a  thick  layer  of  the  dura  mater, 
the  tough,  fibrous  covering  of  the  brain.  The  two 
hemispheres  of  the  cerebellum  are  connected  with 
the  medulla,  the  pons,  and  the  mid-brain,  and  so  in- 
directly with  the  cerebrum  and  spinal  cord  by  three 
bands  of  nerve  fibers,  known  as  the  inferior,  middle, 
and  superior  peduncles. 

Physiologists  are  not  agreed  as  to  the  function  or 
functions  of  the  cerebellum ;  but  it  is  likely,  accord- 
ing to  Howell,  that  by  virtue  of  a  nervous  mechan- 
ism which,  on  the  afferent  (sensory)  side,  is  con- 
nected with  the  sensory  nerves  leading  from  the 
vestibule  of  the  ear,  the  muscles,  joints,  and  tendons, 
and  which,  on  the  efferent  (motor)  side,  is  in  direct 


CONSCIOUSNESS  AND  THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM      23 


connection  with  the  motor  areas  of  the  brain  as 
well  as  the  motor  centers  in  the  spinal  cord,  "the 
cerebellum  is  a  central  organ  for  co-ordination  of 
voluntary  movements,  particularly  the  more  com- 
plex movements  necessary  in  equilibrium  and  loco- 
motion."^ 


Fig.    4.     Superior    aspect    of    cerebral    lieinispheres.      L.    F.,    longi- 
tudinal  fissure. 

The  Cerebrum.  —  The  cerebrum,  the  largest  and, 
psychologically,  by  far  the  most  important  part  of 
the  central  nervous  system,  consists  of  the  two  cere- 
bral hemispheres,  which  are  connected  at  the  base 


^A  Text-Book  of  Physiology,  1909,  p.  237  f. 


24  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

by  a  white  band  of  nervous  matter  known  as  the 
corpus  callosum,  but  are  separated  in  front,  on  top, 
and  at  the  rear  by  the  deep  longitudinal  fissure. 
(L.  F.  Figure  4.) 

The  structural  features  of  the  cerebral  hemi- 
spheres of  most  interest  to  psychology  are:  (1)  the 
cerebral  convolutions  and  fissures;  (2)  the  cerebral 
lobes  and  interlobar  fissures;  (3)  the  outside  layer 
of  cell-bodies  and  cell  processes,  i.  e.,  the  nerve  cells 
of  the  cerebral  cortex;  (4)  the  white  central  mass 
of  the  hemispheres  composed  of  nerve  fibers  which 
connect  the  different  parts  of  the  cortex,  and  the 
cortex  with  other  parts  of  the  central  nervous  sys- 
tem. These  structural  features  will  be  considered 
in  the  order  named. 

The  Cerebral  Convolutions  and  Fissures.  —  Super- 
ficially viewed,  the  most  conspicuous  feature  of  the 
surface  of  each  hemisphere  is  its  division  into  nu- 
merous folds  or  elevations  —  the  cerebral  convolu- 
tions, or  gyri  —  and  fissures,  or  sulci,  which  separ- 
ate the  convolutions  from  one  another.  A  number 
of  the  more  prominent  convolutions  of  the  lateral 
aspect  of  the  left  hemisphere  are  indicated  on  Fig. 
5,  p.  25.  The  figure  also  shows  the  location  of  the 
Sylvian  and  the  Rolandic  fissures. 

The  Cerebral  Lobes  and  Interlobar  Fissures.  — 
For  the  purpose  of  description,  brain  anatomists 
divide  the  surface  of  each  hemisphere  into  more  or 
less  definite  areas  known  as  lobes,  the  boundaries  of 
the  lobes  being  marked  roughly  by  the  more  con- 
spicuous cerebral  fissures.  The  locations  of  the 
lobes  and  the  interlobar  fissures  are  indicated  with 


CONSCIOUSNESS  AND  THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM      25 

sufficient  exactness  by  the  accompanying  figures 
(3,  4,  5,  6) ,  which  give  respectively  the  inferior  and 
the  superior  aspects  of  the  brain,  and  the  lateral 
and  mesial  (inner)  aspects  of  the  left  hemisphere. 

The  interlobar  fissures  are:  (1)  The  Sylvian  fis- 
sure, seen  on  the  lateral  side  of  the  hemisphere 
(Fig.  5),  and  consisting  of  the  stem,  an  anterior 
horizontal  branch,   an  anterior  ascending  branch, 


Fig.     5.      Lateral    view    of    left    cerebral    hemlspiiere.       W.    R. 
Rolandic    fissure.   (After  Wilder,   modifleil) 


R. 


and  the  conspicuous  posterior  branch;  (2)  the  Ro- 
landic, or  central  fissure  (R.  R.  R.,  Fig.  5),  which 
begins  slightly  above  and  in  front  of  the  anterior 
end  of  the  posterior  branch  of  the  Sylvian  fissure, 
extends  obliquely  upward  and  slightly  backward, 
and  passes  over  the  upper  border  of  the  hemisphere 
and  downward  for  a  short  distance  on  its  mesial 
surface.      The    Rolandic    fissure    forms    a    definite 


26 


ELEMENTS   OF  PSYCHOLOGY 


boundary  on  the  lateral  surface  between  the  frontal 
and  parietal  lobes;  (3)  the  parieto-occipital  fissure 
(Fig.  6)  belongs  chiefly  to  the  inner  (mesial)  sur- 
face of  the  hemispheres,  and  separates  the  mesial 
surfaces  of  the  parietal  and  occipital  lobes;  (4)  the 
collateral  fissure  (not  represented  in  the  accompany- 
ing figures)  separates  the  mesial  surface  of  the 
temporal  lobe  from  the  limbic  lobe;  (5)  the  calloso- 


FiG.   6. 


Mesial  aspect  of  left  cerebral  hemisphere, 
marginal  fissure. 


C.  M.  Calloso- 


marginal  fissure  (c.  m.  Fig.  6),  a  clearly  marked 
sulcus  on  the  mesial  surface  of  the  hemisphere, 
begins  below  the  fore-end  of  the  corpus  callosum, 
sweeps  upward  and  around  the  end  of  the  callosum, 
arches  backward  following  the  curve  of  the  callo- 
sum almost  its  entire  length,  then  turns  upward 
to  the  upper  border  of  the  mesial  surface  of  the 
hemisphere;  (6)  the  fissure  of  Reil,  which  partly 
separates  the  island  of  Reil  from  the  frontal,  parie- 
tal, and  limbic  lobes. 


CONSCIOUSNESS  AND  THE   NERVOUS  SYSTEM      27 

The  lobes  of  the  cerebrum  are:  (1)  the  frontal; 
(2)  the  parietal;  (3)  the  temporal;  (4)  the  occi- 
pital; (5)  the  limbic;  (6)  the  insula  (island  of 
Reil.) 

The  frontal  lobe  is  the  largest  of  the  six  named, 
and  includes  about  one-third  of  each  hemisphere. 
The  lateral  surface  boundaries  of  the  frontal  lobe 
are:  (1)  The  Rolandic  fissure  at  the  rear  (R.  R. 
R.,  Fig.  5),  which  separates  it  from  the  parietal 
lobe,  and  (2)  the  anterior  branch  of  the  Sylvian 
fissure  (Fig.  5),  which  divides  it  from  the  temporal 
lobe.  On  the  mesial  surface  the  vertical  limb  of 
the  calloso-marginal  fissure  forms  the  rear  boundary 
line  of  the  frontal  lobe  (see  Fig.  6) .  On  the  inferior 
surface  of  the  hemisphere  the  frontal  lobe  is  separ- 
ated from  the  temporal  lobe  by  the  transverse  stem 
of  the  Sylvian  fissure. 

The  parietal  lobe  has  two  surfaces,  a  lateral  and 
a  mesial.  The  boundaries  of  the  lateral  surface  are : 
(1)  an  imaginary  line  dividing  the  lateral  and  the 
mesial  surfaces  of  the  hemisphere;  (2)  the  Rolandic 
fissure  in  front;  (3)  an  imaginaiy  line  drawn  from 
the  point  at  which  the  parieto-occipital  fissure  passes 
from  the  mesial  to  the  external  surface  of  the  hemi- 
sphere (see  Fig.  6)  to  the  preoccipital  notch,  near 
the  posterior  end  of  the  Sylvian  fissure;  (4)  the 
posterior  branch  of  the  Sylvian  fissure,  forming  the 
lower  boundary  of  the  parietal  lobe.  The  bound- 
aries of  the  mesial  surface  of  the  parietal  lobe  are: 
the  vertical  limb  of  the  calloso-marginal  fissure  in 
front,  the  calloso-marginal  fissure  below,  the  parieto- 
occipital fissure  at  the  rear,  and  above,  the  upper 
edge  of  the  mesial  surface  of  the  hemisphere. 


28  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

The  occipital  lobe  has  three  surfaces,  a  lateral,  a 
mesial  and  an  inferior,  the  locations  of  which  are 
indicated  roughly  in  Figs.  4,  5  and  6. 

The  temporal  lobe  is  separated  on  the  lateral  sur- 
face of  the  hemisphere  from  the  frontal  lobe  by  the 
deep  cleft  or  stem  of  the  Sylvian  fissure;  from  the 
parietal  lobe  by  the  posterior  limb  of  the  Sylvian 
fissure  and  an  imaginary  extension  of  the  latter. 
(See  Fig.  5.)  On  the  mesial  surface  the  collateral 
fissure  divides  the  temporal  and  limbic  lobes.  The 
posterior  boundary  of  the  temporal  lobe,  the  line 
separating  it  from  the  occipital  lobe,  is  formed  by 
the  extension  backward  and  mesialward  of  the 
imaginary  line  which  separates  the  parietal  and  occi- 
pital lobes. 

The  limbic  lobe  (Fig.  6,  p.  26)  is  on  the  mesial 
and  inferior  surfaces  of  the  hemispheres,  and  in- 
cludes two  principal  convolutions,  or  gyri,  the  cal- 
losal  and  the  hippocampal.  The  former  lies  along 
the  upper  surface  of  the  corpus  callosum,  curves 
downward  round  the  rear  end  of  the  corpus  callosum 
and  narrows  into  a  convolution  called  the  isthmus. 
The  hippocampal  gyrus  curves  forward  from  the 
isthmus  toward  the  apex  of  the  temporal  lobe.' 

The  insula,  or  island  of  Reil,  is  a  triangular  area 
of  the  cerebral  cortex  concealed  within  the  Sylvian 
fissure  by  the  over-hanging  folds  of  the  frontal, 
temporal  and  parietal  lobes. 

The  Cerebral  Cortex.  —  The  cortex,  the  chief  organ 
of  consciousness,  forms  the  outer  layer  of  each  of 
the  cerebral  hemispheres.     It  is  grayish  in  appear- 


1  PiERSOL,^  Human  Anatomy,  vol.  II,  p.  1150  f. 


CONSCIOUSNESS  AND  THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM      29 

ance,  and  averages  about  3  mm.  in  thickness.  Under 
the  microscope,  the  cortex  is  seen  to  be  composed  of 
fairly  well-marked  layers  of  nerve-cells  or  "neu- 
rones," consisting  of  cell-bodies  and  nerve-fibers, 
together  with  the  neuroglia,  or  supporting  tissue. 

The  cell-bodies.  —  The  accompanying  figure  (p. 
30,  Fig,  7)  represents  a  section  of  the  cortex,  cut 
perpendicular  to  the  surface  of  the  convolution, 
showing  the  distribution  of  the  cell-bodies  of  the 
neurones.  The  order  of  the  layers,  beginning  with 
the  outer  one,  is:  (1)  The  stratum  zonale;  (2)  the 
layer  of  small  pyramidal  cells;  (3)  the  layer  of 
large  pyramidal  cells;  (4)  the  polymorphic  cells. 

The  functions  of  the  cell-bodies  are:  (1)  to  re- 
ceive nerve  impulses;  (2)  to  distribute  the  impulses 
thus  received  to  other  parts  of  the  brain. 

The  nerve-fibers  of  the  cortex  may  be  arranged 
into  five  groups:  (1)  The  bundles  of  radial  fibers 
composed  of  efi'erent  (outgoing)  and  afferent  (in- 
coming) fibers,  the  former  consisting  largely  of 
axones  of  the  pyramidal  and  polymorphic  cells;  the 
latter,  of  fibers  derived  from  cells  located  in  regions 
of  the  brain  remote  from  the  cortical  areas  in  which 
the  fibers  terminate;  (2)  the  interradial  felt- work 
of  fibers,  consisting  chiefly  of  lateral  and  collateral 
cell  processes,  and  occupying  the  spaces  between  the 
radial  bundles;  (3)  the  outer  stripe  of  Baillarger 
containing  a  highly  intricate  layer  of  processes  and 
collaterals  from  the  large  pyramidal  cells;  (4)  the 
supra-radial  felt-work  of  Edinger,  a  second  layer 
of  finely  interlaced  nerve  processes  and  collaterals; 


30 


ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 


polymorphic 
cells. 


Fig,  7.     Section  through  the  cerebral  cortex. 


CONSCIOUSNESS  AND  THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM      31 

(5)  the  tangential  fibers,  a  layer  of  innumerable 
delicate  fibrils  which  run  horizontally  and  parallel 
to  the  surface  of  the  cortex.  The  layer  of  tangen- 
tial fibers  consists  in  part  of  the  long  processes  and 
collaterals  of  the  cells  in  the  stratum  zonale,  but 
chiefly  of  the  terminal  branches  of  the  dendritic 
processes  of  the  pyramidal  and  polymorphic  cells 
and  the  fine  terminal  filaments  of  fibers  which  spring 
from  the  lower  brain  regions. 

The  White  Matter  of  the  Cerebrum. —  Just  beneath 
the  layer  of  polymorphic  cells  (Fig.  7)  lies  the  white 
matter  of  the  hemisphere.  This  consists  of  bundles 
of  nerve  fibers,  their  supporting  tissues,  and  a  small 
number  of  minute  blood  vessels.  The  fibers,  classi- 
fied according  to  the  relation  which  they  bear  to  the 
cortex,  are:  (1)  The  projection  fibers;  (2)  the  asso- 
ciation fibers,  and  (3)  the  commissural  fibers. 

The  projection  fibers  (A,  -B,  C,  D,  and  E,  of  the 
accompanying  figure  8,  p.  32)  connect  the  cerebral 
cortex  with  the  mid-brain,  the  pons,  the  medulla, 
and  the  spinal  cord,  and  their  function  is  to  carry 
outgoing  nerve  impulses  to  these  portions  of  the  cen- 
tral nervous  system  (the  mid-brain,  pons,  medulla, 
and  spinal  cord)  and  to  carry  incoming  impulses 
from  these  organs  —  the  pons,  medulla  and  so  on  — 
to  the  cortex. 

Perhaps  it  will  aid  the  student  in  forming  an  idea  of 
the  arranf^ement  of  the  bands  of  projection  fibers  to  liken 
the  hemisphere  to  the  half  of  a  goose-egg,  flattened  on  the 
under  side,  to  represent  the  inferior  surface  of  the  hemis- 
phere.    Further,  we  may  liken  the  shell  of  the  egg  to  the 


32 


ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 


protecting  parts  of  the  cerebrum,  the  thin  membrane  just 
beneath  the  shell  to  the  cerebral  cortex,  and  the  projection 
fibers  to  fine  threads  running  from  the  various  portions  of 
the  thin  membrane  to  a  point  a  little  to  the  rear  of  the 
center  of  the  lower  border  of  the  inner  flat  surface. 


Fig.  8.  Schema  of  the  projection  fibers  of  the  cerebrum  and  of 
the  peduncles  of  the  cerebellum ;  lateral  view  of  the  internal 
capsule :  A,  Tract  from  the  frontal  gyri  to  the  pons  nuclei, 
and  so  to  the  cerebellum  (frontal  cerebro-corticorpontal  tract)  ; 
B,  the  motor  (pyramidal)  tract;  C,  the  sensory  (lemniscus) 
tract;  D,  the  visual  tract;  E,  the  auditory  tract;  F,  the 
fibers  of  the  superior  peduncle  of  the  cerebellum;  G,  fibers 
of  the  middle  peduncle  uniting  with  A  in  the  pons  ;  H,  fibers 
of  the  inferior  peduncle  of  the  cerebellum ;  /,  fibers  between 
the  auditory  nucleus  and  the  inferior  colliculus ;  K,  motor 
(pyramidal)  decussation  in  the  bulb;  Vt,  fourth  ventricle.  The 
numerals  refer  to  the  cranial  nerves. —  (Modified  from  Starr 
by  Howell.) 


CONSCIOUSNESS  AND  THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM      33 

The  association  fibers  (Fig.  9)  connect  different 
parts  of  the  cortical  areas  of  the  same  hemisphere. 
They  are  classed  as  either  short  or  long  association 
bundles.  The  short  bundles,  marked  A  in  the  figure, 
curve  around  the  bottoms  of  the  fissures  and  con- 


FiG.  'J.  Lateral  view  of  a  human  hemisphere,  showing  the  bundles 
of  association  fibers  (Starr):  A,  A,  Between  adjacent  gyri ; 
B,  between  frontal  and  occipital  areas  ;  C,  between  frontal  and 
temporal  areas,  cingulum ;  D,  between  frontal  and  temporal 
areas,  fasciculus  uncinatus ;  E,  between  occipital  and  temporal 
■  areas,  fasciculus  longitudinalis  inferior;  C.N^  caudate  nucleus; 
O.T,  thalamus. —  (Howell.) 


nect,  as  a  rule,  adjacent  convolutions;  the  long  asso- 
ciation fibers,  marked  B,  C,  D,  E,  in  the  figure,  con- 
nect remote  regions  of  the  cortex.  The  functions 
of  the  association  fibers  are  to  distribute  impulses 
brought  to  the  cortex  by  the  afferent   (incoming) 


34 


ELEMENTS   OF  PSYCHOLOGY 


Fig.  10.  Diagram  showing  fibres  con- 
necting the  two  cerebral  hemispheres. 
(The  anterior  commissure  is  not  rep- 
resented in  the  figure.) 


projection  fibers,  and  to  co-ordinate  the  activities  of 
the  different  cortical  areas. 

The  commissural  fibers  (Fig.  10)  serve  to  con- 
nect the  cortex  of 
one  hemisphere 
with  that  of  the 
other.  As  may  be 
seen  from  the  fig- 
ure, the  commissural 
fibers,  as  they  cross 
the  line  between 
the  hemispheres, 
are  collected  into 
three  bands  known 
as  commissures  or 
bridges:  (1)  the 
corpus  callosum,  the  chief  bridge;  (2)  the  anterior 
commissure,  connecting  the  olfactory  bulbs  and  the 
temporal  lobes  of  the  two  hemispheres;  (3)  the 
hippocampal  commissure,  connecting  the  hippocam- 
pal  gyri  of  the  two  hemispheres.  (Only  the  first 
and  third  commissures  are  represented  in  the  figure. 
The  Three  Types  of  Cortical  Areas.  —  It  is  possible 
to  describe  at  least  three  types  of  cortical  functional 
areas,  and,  in  part,  to  localize  them.  The  three  types 
of  areas  are:  (1)  motor,  which  is  directly  concerned 
in  the  stimulation  and  control  of  the  voluntary  mus- 
cles; (2)  the  sensory,  the  areas  in  which  sensory 
paths  from  the  sense-organs  terminate;  and  (3)  the 
association  areas  whose  function  is  to  recombine 
and  redistribute  the  impulses  received  in  the  sen- 
sory areas. 


CONSCIOUSNESS  AND  THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM      35 

The  Motor  Cortical  Areas  in  Man.  —  Until  compar- 
atively recently  the  motor  zone  was  thought  to 
occupy  the  pre-central  and  post-central  convolutions 
on  each  side  of  the  Rolandic  fissure,  and  probably 
also  the  immediately  adjacent  areas.  But  at  pres- 
ent, "the  trend  of  opinion,"  as  Taylor  says,  "is  in 
favor  of  the  view  that  the  motor  region  is  entirely 
or  almost  entirely  in  front  of  the  central  fissure  of 
Rolando,"  (as  represented  in  Figure  5,  p.  25)  and 
extending  over  the  upper  margin  of  the  hemisphere 
on  its  mesial  surface  for  a  short  distance.  In  the 
lower  part  of  the  motor  zone  are  found  the  motor 
centres  for  the  face,  neck,  tongue,  and  mouth;  in 
the  central  part,  centers  for  the  arm  (shoulder, 
elbow,  wrist,  fingers,  and  thumb)  ;  in  the  upper  part 
of  the  zone  are  the  centers  for  the  leg  (hip,  knee, 
ankle,  toes). 

The  Sensory  Cortical  Centers  in  Man  most  defi- 
nitely located  are:  (1)  the  somaesthetic,  or  bodily 
sense,  area;  (2)  the  center  for  vision,  and  (3)  the 
auditory  center.  The  bodily  sense  (somsesthetic) 
area  —  that  is,  the  region  correlated  with  the  cuta- 
neous sensations  of  pressure,  pain,  cold,  and  warmth, 
with  the  kinsesthetic  sensations,  muscular,  tendin- 
ous, and  articular,  and  possibly  with  other  organic 
sensations  —  lies  in  the  post-central  convolution  and 
in  the  adjoining  parietal  convolutions.  (See  Figure 
5,  p.  25.)  The  general  area  for  vision  is  located  in 
the  two  occipital  lobes.  See  Figure  5  for  location 
of  the  visual  area  in  left  hemisphere.  The  auditory 
area  probably  lies  mainly  in  the  upper  temporal  con- 
volution and  in  the  transverse  convolutions  running 


36  ELEMENTS   OF  PSYCHOLOGY 

into  the  Sylvian  fissure.  (See  Figure  5  for  probable 
location  of  the  auditory  center  of  the  left  hemi- 
sphere). "It  is  very  likely,"  according  to  Taylor, 
"that  the  (auditory)  center  of  each  side  is  connected 
with  both  auditory  nerves,  so  that  a  paralysis  of  one 
side  by  a  unilateral  lesion  of  one  side  may  be  com- 
pensated for  by  the  center  of  the  opposite  side."^ 
The  cortical  center  for  smell  is  believed  to  be  in  the 
front  part  of  the  hippocampal  convolution  (Fig.  6, 
p.  26)  ;  and  it  is  often  asserted  that  the  center  for 
taste  is  also  in  this  convolution,  posterior  to  the  area 
for  smell.  But,  as  Howell  remarks,  "practically 
nothing  definite  is  known  concerning  the  central 
paths  and  cortical  termination  of  the  taste  fibers." 
Cortical  Association  Areas.  —  From  an  inspection 
of  the  accompanying  figures  and  drawings  of  the 
hemispheres  it  will  be  seen  that  the  sensory  and 
motor  areas  of  the  cortex  occupy  only  a  small  por- 
tion of  the  entire  cortical  area.  The  remaining  por- 
tion is  occupied  by  'the  association  areas',  as  they 
have  been  designated  by  Flechsig.  According  to 
Flechsig,  there  are  four  of  these  areas:  (1)  the 
frontal,  which  lies  in  front  of  the  motor  areas,  and 
occupies  a  large  part  of  the  frontal  lobe;  (2)  the 
median,  or  insular,  the  cortex  of  the  island  of  Reil ; 
(3)  the  parietal,  which  lies  posterior  to  the  bodily 
sense  area,  and  extends  backward  to  the  occipital 
lobe;  and  (4)  the  temporal  occupying,  as  the  name 
suggests,  certain  portions  of  the  temporal  lobe. 


1  PiERSOLj  Human  Anatomy,  vol.   II,  p.   1213. 


CONSCIOUSNESS  AND  THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM      37 

Function  of  the  Association  Areas.  —  Knowledge 
concerning  the  function  of  the  association  areas  of 
the  human  brain  is  derived  principally  from  the 
study  of  the  relationships  which  exist  between  defi- 
nite disorders,  due  to  accident  or  disease,  of  these 
areas  and  certain  defects  of  the  human  mind.  For 
example,  the  'post  mortem  examination  of  the  brain 
of  a  patient,  who  during  life  was  afflicted  with  men- 
tal blindness  —  the  inability  to  understand  optical 
impressions  —  shows  that  the  areas  connecting  the 
visual  centers  with  other  parts  of  the  cortex  are 
broken  down,  so  that  the  optical  impression  awak- 
ens no  images  or  ideas  in  regard  to  the  object  seen. 
If  the  object  is  a  word  such  as  'orange'  or  'horse,' 
it  means  nothing,  the  patient  cannot  recall  the  sound 
of  the  word,  nor  is  he  able  to  pronounce  it.  In  this 
case  the  optical  center  may  function  normally,  but 
the  connections  between  it  and  the  centers  for  hear- 
ing and  articulation,  'and  possibly  other  sensory 
centers,  are  ruptured,  and  the  rupture  occurs  in  the 
association  areas.  Again,  in  cases  of  mental  deaf- 
ness, the  auditory  center  seems  to  perform  its  nor- 
mal functions,  but  on  account  of  the  disturbance  of 
the  association  areas  between  it  and  other  cortical 
areas,  the  sounds  which  the  patient  hears  mean 
nothing.  For  example,  he  hears  the  ringing  of  a 
bell,  but  it  awakens  no  memories  or  ideas  of  how  the 
bell  looks,  or  of  its  name,  or  of  how  it  would  'feel' 
to  the  hand,  or  of  any  of  its  other  properties. 

Cases  of  this  sort,  of  which  the  books  on  neuro- 
pathology record  a  great  many,  strongly  corrobo- 
rate the  general  theoretical  opinion  that  the  func- 


38  ELEMENTS   OF  PSYCHOLOGY 

tion  of  the  association  areas  is  to  connect  the  several 
sensory  centers  with  one  another  and  with  the  mo- 
tor areas,  particularly  those  of  speech ;  further,  and 
perhaps  most  important  of  all,  their  function  is  to 
connect  the  cortical  processes  correlated  with  sensa- 
tions and  images,  thus  constituting  an  essential  fea- 
ture of  the  nervous  basis  of  perception  and  memory. 
It  was  such  a  variety  of  functions  which  James  had 
in  mind,  perhaps,  when  he  wrote : 

"Every  namable  thing,  act,  or  relation  has  numerous 
properties,  qualities,  or  aspects.  In  our  minds  the  proper- 
ties of  each  thing,  together  with  its  name,  form  an  asso- 
ciated group.  If  different  parts  of  the  brain  are  severally 
concerned  with  the  several  properties,  and  a  further  part 
with  the  hearing,  and  still  another  with  the  uttering,  of  the 
name,  there  must  inevitably  be  brought  about  .... 
such  a  dynamic  connection  amongst  all  these  brain  parts 
that  the  activity  of  any  one  of  them  will  be  likely  to  awaken 
the  activity  of  all  the  rest."  ^ 

The  Localization  of  Cerebral  Functions.  —  The  his- 
tory of  opinion  in  regard  to  the  localization  of  cere- 
bral functions  may  be  divided  roughly  into  four 
periods.  To  the  first  period  —  early  part  of  the 
nineteenth  century  —  belongs  the  system  of  phren- 
ology of  Gall  and  his  pupil,  Spurzheim,  which  was 
an  attempt  to  localize  a  number  of  cerebral  organs 
(Spurzheim  localized  thirty-five),  whose  individual 
and  separate  functioning  is  the  condition  of  a  like 
number  of  independent  mental  "faculties,"  "capaci- 
ties," or  "internal  senses."    (2)   Gall's  and  Spurz- 

1  Principles   of  Psychology,  I,   p.   55.      Compare   p.    555. 


CONSCIOUSNESS  AND  THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM      39 

heim's  teachings  fell  into  disrepute  —  first,  because 
they  came  to  be  "exploited  chiefly  by  frauds  and 
charlatans,"  and,  second,  because  of  the  experiments 
of  Flourens,  which  seemed  to  establish  the  doctrine 
of  the  functional  equivalence  of  all  parts  of  the 
cerebrum,  i.  e.,  that  one  part  can  perform  the  func- 
tions of  any  other  part,  and  that  the  whole  cerebrum 
assists  in  the  performance  of  each  function.  Flou- 
rens' views  were  generally  accepted  by  the  physi- 
ologists till  the  publication,  in  1870,  of  Fritsch  and 
Hitzig's  studies,  w^hich  marked  the  beginning  of  the 
third  period.  (3)  These  investigators  found  that 
by  stimulating  electrically  definite  regions  of  the 
cortex  of  the  dog's  brain  certain  definite,  highly 
specialized  movements  resulted.  Then  came  a  re- 
newal of  interest  in  the  localization  question  and  a 
number  of  scientists  of  the  first  grade  attacked  the 
problem.  Some  of  them  worked  by  the  method  of 
stimulating  electrically  the  cortical  areas  of  various 
animals  and  of  man ;  some,  by  cutting  away  portions 
of  the  cortex  and  observing  the  sensory  or  motor 
defects  which  resulted;  others,  by  autopsies  on  per- 
sons in  whom  motor  and  sensory  defects  were  found 
to  be  related  more  or  less  closely  to  morbid  changes 
in  definite  cerebral  areas.  The  brilliant  successes 
of  these  various  lines  of  study  soon  tempted  men  to 
pass  beyond  the  domain  of  ascertained  fact  to  the 
realm  of  speculation,  and  there  arose  a  tendency  to 
conceive  of  the  human  cerebrum  as  consisting  of  a 
multitude  of  separate  organs,  thus  returning  to  a 
view  resembling  in  some  respects  the  older  doctrine 
of  Gall. 


40  ELEMENTS  OF  PSYCHOLOGY 

(4)  The  fourth  period  is  best  represented  by 
Wundt's  principle  of  relative  localization  as  distin- 
guished from  the  theory  of  'absolute'  localization. 
Wundt's  theory  rests  upon  and  includes  four  other 
'General  Principles  of  the  Central  Functions,'  which 
may  be  stated  briefly,  and,  so  far  as  possible,  in  his 
own  words.^  (1)  The  first  of  these  is  'The  Principle 
of  the  Connection  of  Elements.'  This  principle 
may  be  stated  from  the  three  standpoints  of  anat- 
omy, physiology,  and  psychology.  'Anatomically 
regarded,  the  nervous  system  is  a  unitary  complex 
of  numerous  elements ;  and  every  one  of  these  mor- 
phological elements  stands  in  more  or  less  close 
connection  with  others.'  'Physiologically,  the  prin- 
ciple of  the  connection  of  elements  implies  that 
every  physiological  activity  which  is  open  to  our 
observation  and  analysis,  is  composed  of  a  large 

number  of  elementary  functions In 

particular,  e.  g.,  the  physiological  process  under- 
lying, however  simple  a  sensation  or  muscular  con- 
traction is  a  complex  process,  involving  the  activity 

of  many  elementary  parts Lastly, 

there  is  a  psychological,  as  well  as  an  anatomical 
and  physiological  formulation  of  the  principle.  It 
means,  psychologically,  that  the  simplest  psychical 
contents  discoverable  by  analysis  of  the  facts  of 
consciousness  (simple  sensations  or  simple  feelings) 
always  presuppose,  as  their  physiological  subtrate, 
complex  nerve  processes,  and  the  result  of  the  co- 
operation of  many  elementary  parts. 


^Principles   of  Physiological   Psycholopy,  TCngr.   trans,    by   Titch- 
ener,  1904,  vol.  I,  pp.  287  ff.  320  ff. 


CONSCIOUSNESS  AND  THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM      41 

The  principle  just  explained  is  opposed  to  the  theory  of 
the  autonomy  of  the  elements  which  is  that  the  physiological 
nerve  elements,  the  nerve  cells,  can  mediate  extremely  com- 
plex psychical  functions.  'Thus,  according  to  this  [latter] 
theory,  a  single  cell  may,  according  to  circumstances,  be  the 
vehicle  of  a  sensation  or  of  a  compound  idea,  a  concept.' 
This  theory,  in  its  crudest  form,  attempts  to  estimate  the 
number  of  ideas  that,  on  emergency,  may  be  lodged  in  an 
individual  consciousness,  by  counting  the  number  of  cells 
in  the  cerebral  cortex. 

(2)  The  second  principle  is  that  of  'the  Original 
Indifference  of  Functions,'  namely,  that  the  nervous 
elements  originally  were  not  specialized  as  to  the 
functions  which  they  should  mediate.  This  prin- 
ciple is  supported,  anatomically,  by  the  essential 
identity  of  structure  that  we  find  throughout  the 
elements  of  the  nervous  system :  'physiologically,  the 
principle  of  indifference  of  function  is  attested  by 
the  uniform  character  of  the  forces  that  reside  in 
the  nervous  elements  ....  'Lastly,  the  prin- 
ciple derives  its  principal  support,  on  the  psycho- 
logical side,  from  the  fact  that  the  specific  differ- 
ences in  the  sensory  contents  of  consciousness,  if 
they  are  of  an  elementary  nature,  may  always  be 
resolved  into  qualities  of  sensation  and  feeling  that 
depend  upon  the  functions  of  peripheral  elements,' 
and  not  upon  the  specific  energies  of  the  nervous 
elements  within  the  cerebral  cortex.  Wundt  admits 
that  the  so-called  'law  of  specific  energy'  still  holds 
its  own  in  current  scientific  thought,  but  predicts 
that  its  final  statement  will  relate  to  the  peripheral 
sensory  elements. 


42  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

(3)  Wundt's  third  general  principle  of  brain 
function  is  that  of  'Practice  and  Adaptation.' 

"Practice  ....  consists  in  the  perfection 
of  a  function  by  its  repeated  performance.  Hence 
the  principle  of  practice,  as  applied  to  the  functions 
of  the  nervous  system,  signifies  that  every  central 
element,  whether  considered  by  itself  or  regarded 
as  cooperating  in  some  special  way,  determined  by 
the  conditions  of  life,  with  other  like  elements, 
becomes  better  and  better  fitted  to  discharge  or  to 
share  in  the  discharge  of  a  particular  function,  the 
more  frequently  it  has  been  called  to  its  service  by 
pressure  of  external  conditions."  Practice  is,  there- 
fore, to  be  looked  upon  as  responsible  for  many  of 
the  changes  which  take  place  "in  the  nervous  appa- 
ratus and  their  appended  organs."  Ordinarily  the 
first  effect  of  practice  "is  the  perfection  of  a  given 
function ;  but  it  may  also  lead  to  new  combinations 
of  elementary  nerve  processes  by  which  the  original 
nature  of  a  complex  function  is  altered  and  the 
function  itself,  in  accordance  with  the  general  char- 
acter of  practice,  moulded  into  new  combinations  as 
conditions  may  require.  Under  these  circumstances 
the  process  of  practice  is  termed  "adaptation." 

(4)  "The  Principle  of  Vicarious  Function"  is  that 
under  certain  conditions  nerve  elements  assume 
functions  which  they  have  not  previously  dis- 
charged, though  they  must,  of  course,  have  carried 
within  them  the  latent  possibility  of  their  new  offices. 

(5)  The  Principle  of  Relative  Localization.  The 
following  quotation  shows  how  Wundt's  four  prin- 
ciples:  (1)  of  connection  of  elements;  (2)   of  orig- 


CONSCIOUSNESS  AND  THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM      43 

inal  indifference  of  functions;  (3)  of  practice  and 
adaptation,  and  (4)  of  vicarious  function,  support 
his  Principle  of  Relative  Localization  in  opposition 
to  the  hypothesis  of  an  absolute  localization : 

"There  can  be  no  doubt  that,  in  a  certain  sense,  the  cent- 
ral functions,  [those  of  the  cerebrum]  like  those  of  the  per- 
ipheral organs,  are  spatially  distinct.  But  there  can  also 
be  no  doubt  that  the  central  organ,  as  its  name  implies, 
represents,  in  contradistinction  to  the  peripheral  organs,  a 
centralisation  and  thus,  at  the  same  time,  an  unification  of 
functions;  so  that  any  absolute  localisation  of  function, 
which  should  confine  each  separate  activity  within  fixed 
limits,  is  a  piiori  impossible,  as  it  is  also  unsupported  by 
the  facts  of  observation.  In  the  peripheral  organs,  where 
the  demands  of  external  function  have  produced  diversity 
of  structure,  the  principle  of  division  of  labour  is  strictly 
observed,  and  the  localisation  of  function  follows  in  the  train 
of  its  observance.  In  the  centres  of  the  nervous  system, 
the  principle  is  broken  through  in  two  different  ways.  On 
the  one  hand,  every  central  function  divides  ....  into  a 
number  of  subordinate  and  auxiliary  functions,  which  of 
themselves  embrace  wide  and,  in  part,  widely  remote  areas 
of  the  central  nervous  system.  On  the  other,  the  processes 
of  practice,  adaptation  and  vicarious  function  show  that  the 
spatial  centralisation  of  a  function  is  not  fixed,  but  depend- 
ent upon  its  exercise,  and  upon  the  conditions  under  which 
this  exercise  is  placed,  so  that  any  rigid  spatial  limitation 
is  out  of  the  question  ....  The  principle  of  [relative] 
localisation  also  stands  in  the  closest  relation  to  the  prin- 
ciples of  the  connexion  of  elements  and  of  the  original  in- 
difference of  function.  For  without  the  connexion  of  ele- 
ments that  is  required  by  every,  even  the  simplest  form  of 
central  activity,  and  without  an  original  and,  in  the  case 
of  many  central  elements,  a  permanent  functional  indiffer- 
ence, there  could  be  no  shift  of  the  limits  of  a  function  with 
change    in    its    conditions.      In    fine,    then,    the    principle    of 


44  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

relative  localisation  gathers  up  and  includes  all  the  preced- 
ing principles,  as  its  necessary  presuppositions;  while  an 
absolute  localisation  of  the  central  functions,  such  as  is 
often-times  assumed,  comes  into  direct  conflict  with  every 
one  of  them." 

In  brief,  Wundt's  doctrine  of  relative  localization, 
in  contradistinction  to  the  theory  of  absolute  locali- 
zation, gives  prominence  to  the  idea  of  cooperation 
of  the  different  cortical  regions  as  the  physical  cor- 
relate of  the  various  psychical  activities.  It  follows 
that  the  terms  'central  organ',  'speech  center,'  'vis- 
ual center,'  and  the  like,  cannot  relate  to  any  single 
region  or  point  of  the  cortex,  but  rather  to  two  or 
more  cortical  regions  whose  functions  are  coordi- 
nated. 

This  completes  our  outline  of  the  structure  and 
functions  of  the  brain,  the  principal  organ  of  con- 
sciousness.   We  may  turn  now  to  a  brief  study  of: 

The  Spinal  Cord. — Anatomically  and  function- 
ally, the  spinal  cord  is  continuous  with  the  medulla 
oblongata;  but  for  convenience  in  description  the 
former  is  defined  as  that  portion  of  the  cerebro- 
spinal axis  which  lies  in  the  vertebral  or  spinal  col- 
umn, popularly  known  as  the  "back  bone."  In  the 
human  adult  the  cord  is  about  17  inches  long  and 
about  three-fourths  inch  in  diameter,  tapering  at 
the  lower  end  and  terminating  in  a  slender  filament. 

Viewed  in  cross-section  the  cord  is  seen  to  be 
almost  divided  into  two  symmetrical  halves  by  fis- 
sures, one  on  its  ventral  and  one  on  its  dorsal  side. 
(Fig.  11.)     The  cross-section  shows  further  a  cen- 


CONSCIOUSNESS  AND  THE   NERVOUS  SYSTEM      45 

tral  grayish  H-shaped  area  consisting  of  a  mesh  of 
fibres  and  a  multitude  of  nerve  cells — the  gray  mat- 
ter of  the  cord.  Each  half  of  this  area  is  divisible 
into  three  parts:  (1)  The  short,  thick,  roundish 
anterior  horn;  (2)  the  long,  slender,  posterior  horn, 
and  (3)  the  part  lying  between  the  horns  and  con- 
necting them  (See  Fig.  11).  The  gray  matter  of 
the  cord  is  surrounded  by  the  white  matter  which 


Fig.  11.  Cross-section  of  the  spinal  cord  :  a,  anterior  fissure  ;  p, 
posterior  fissure  ;  co.a,  anterior  horn  ;  co.l,  lateral  horn  ;  co.p, 
posterior  horn ;  r.a,  anterior  and  r.p,  posterior  roots  of  the 
spinal  nerves.      (After  Ladd,   modified.) 


consists,  exclusive  of  the  supporting  and  connective 
tissues,  of  nerve  fibres  running  lengthwise  of  the 
cord.  The  fibers  are  of  three  classes :  (1)  those  which 
form  paths  of  connection  between  the  cerebrum  and 
the  sense-organs,  the  muscles  and  glands  of  the  body, 
i.  e.,  ascending  fibres  carrying  sensory  impulses  to 
the  cerebrum,  and  descending  fibres  conveying  motor 


46  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

impulses  to  different  bodily  organs;  (2)  ascending 
and  descending  fibres  which  connect  the  gray  matter 
of  the  cord  with  the  cerebellum;  and  (3)  fibres 
which  connect  different  levels  of  the  cord. 

Functions  of  the  Spinal  Cord.  —  Structurally  re- 
garded, the  spinal  cord  consists  of  (1)  a  system  of 
reflex  centers,  and  (2)  multitudes  of  nerve  fibres 
connecting  different  levels  of  the  cord  with  one 
another  and  with  the  brain.  Accordingly,  the  two 
principal  functions  of  the  spinal  cord  are:  (1)  to 
mediate  reflex  actions,  and  (2)  to  serve  as  a  path- 
way for  nervous  impulses  to  and  fro  between  the 
brain  and  the  outlying  parts  of  the  body. 

A  pure  reflex  action  is  one  which  occurs  imme- 
diately in  response  to  the  excitation  of  a  sensory 
nerve  and  without  conscious  guidance.  For  ex- 
ample, if  one  tickles  the  sole  of  the  foot  of  a  sleeping 
child,  the  foot  is  withdrawn  at  once  and  without  the 
child's  "willing"  so  to  act.  In  this  case,  the  impulse 
set  up  by  the  tickling  travels  over  a  sensory  neu- 
rone to  a  reflex  center  in  the  cord  from  which  a 
motor  impulse  flows  out  to  the  muscles  whose  action 
causes  the  withdrawal  of  the  foot.  Suppose,  how- 
ever, that  the  child  is  awake ;  then  the  tickling  stim- 
ulus results  not  only  in  the  tendency  to  withdraw 
the  foot  as  before,  but  also  the  consciousness  of  the 
tickling  and  possibly  the  idea  of  withdrawing  the 
foot,  hiding  it,  and  the  like.  In  the  latter  case,  it 
is  clear  that  the  impulse  which  originated  in  the 
foot  traveled  first  to  the  cord,  thence  up  the  cord 
to  the  brain  cortex,  finally  resulting  in  a  motor  im- 
pulse downward  from  the  cortex  into  the  cord  and 


CONSCIOUSNESS  AND  THE   NERVOUS  SYSTEM      47 


BRAIN 


Fig.   12.     Diagram  showing  principal  functions  of  tiic  spinal  cord. 


48  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

out  to  the  muscles  involved  in  withdrawing  the  foot. 
In  the  reflex  withdrawal,  the  nerve  current  took  a 
short  route  through  a  section  of  the  spinal  cord ;  in 
the  voluntary,  it  took  the  long  route  by  way  of  as- 
cending tracts  to  the  cortex,  returning  along  the 
descending  paths  of  the  cord  to  the  point  of  emer- 
gence, thence  to  the  leg  muscles. 

The  two  principal  functions  performed  by  the 
cord  as  a  system  of  reflex  centres  and  as  a  pathway 
between  different  parts  of  the  nervous  system  are 
illustrated  in  Figure  12,  p.  47.  The  sensory  ending 
of  a  nerve  fibre  terminates  in  the  part  marked,  in 
the  figure,  "sense-organ."  The  stimulation  of  this 
organ  excites  an  impulse  which  travels  along  the 
fibre  a  toward  the  cord  as  indicated  by  the  arrow. 
Upon  reaching  the  cord,  the  impulse  may  either 
pass  over  at  once  to  a  motor  center  in  the  cord  and 
thence  along  the  motor  fibre  e  to  the  muscle,  result- 
ing in  a  reflex  action ;  or  it  may  pass  upward,  by  a 
series  of  fibre  connections,  to  the  cerebral  cortex, 
where  it  is  transformed  into  a  motor  impulse  which 
passes  downward,  and  by  another  series  of  connec- 
tions, terminating  in  the  muscle. 

It  should  be  remembered  that  nervous  action  is 
rarely,  if  ever,  as  simple  as  that  represented  by  the 
diagram  and  the  foregoing  description.  The  latter 
are  intended  merely  to  show  in  the  simplest  way  the 
essential  features  of  the  two  chief  functions  of  the 
spinal  cord,  and  incidentally  the  difference  between 
an  action  which  involves  the  brain  and  one  which 
does  not. 

The  Peripheral  Nervous  System.  —  So  far  in  our 
study  of  the  nervous  system  we  have  been  con- 


CONSCIOUSNESS  AND  THE   NERVOUS  SYSTEM      49 

cerned  mainly  with  the  central  part — the  brain  and 
spinal  cord.  We  have  next  to  review  the  principal 
features  of  the  peripheral  nervous  system,  the  part 
which  serves  to  relate  the  various  organs  and  tis- 
sues of  the  body  to  the  central  system. 

The  peripheral  nerves  may  be  grouped  into  two 
main  systems:  (1)  the  cerebro-spinal,  and  (2)  the 
sympathetic.  The  former  is  divided  into  (a)  the 
cranial  nerves,  which  are  attached  to  the  brain,  and 
(b)  the  spinal  nerves,  which  are  attached  to  the 
spinal  cord. 

The  Cranial  Nerves.  —  The  twelve  pairs  of  cranial 
nerves  pass  from  the  brain  through  small  openings 
in  the  base  of  the  skull  to  various  parts  of  the  head, 
mainly,  though  a  few  of  them  send  branches  to  the 
respiratory  organs,  the  heart,  oesophagus,  stomach 
and  intestine.  Figure  3  (p.  20)  shows  the  superfi- 
cial origins  of  the  cranial  nerves,  i.  e.,  the  points 
at  which  they  emerge  from  the  brain.  Some  cranial 
nerves  are  wholly  motor  in  function,  i.  e.,  convey 
only  outgoing  impulses  from  the  brain;  some  are 
wholly  sensory,  i.  e.,  convey  only  sensory  impulses 
to  the  brain ;  others  are  both  sensory  and  motor. 

The  cranial  nerves  are  named  either  according 
to  the  structures  or  surfaces  in  which  they  termi- 
nate peripherally  or  according  to  their  functions. 
The  numbers,  names,  and  principal  functions  of 
these  nerves  are  given  in  the  following  table  from 
Piersol.^ 


'  PiERSOL,  JJuman   Anatomy,  Vol.   II,   p.   1220. 
4 


50 


ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 


THE  CRANIAL  NERVES. 


NUMBER.       NAME. 

I.     Olfactory: 
IL     Optic: 
IIL     Oculomotor: 

IV.     Trochlear : 

V.     Trigeminal: 


VI.     Abducent: 
VII.     Facial. 


VIII.     Auditory: 

(a)  Cochlear   divi- 
sion: 

(b)  Vestibular  divi- 
sion : 

IX.     Glosso-Pharyngeal : 


X.     Pneumogastric    or 
Vagus: 


XI.     Spinal  Accessory: 
XII.     Hypoglossal: 


FUNCTION. 

Special  sense  of  smell. 

Special  sense  of  sight 

Motor  to  eye-muscles  and  le- 
vator palpebrae  superioris. 

Motor  to  superior  oblique 
muscle. 

Common  sensation  to  struc- 
tures of  head. 

Motor  to  muscles  of  mastica- 
tion. 

Motor  to  external  rectus 
muscle. 

Motor  to  muscles  of  head 
(scalp  and  face)  and  neck 
(platysma). 

Probably  secretory  to  sub- 
maxillary and  sublingual 
glands. 

Sensory  (taste)  to  anterior 
two-thirds  of  tongue. 


Hearing. 

Equilibration. 

Special  sense  of  taste. 

Common  sensation  to  part  of 
tongue  and  to  pharynx  and 
middle  ear. 

Motor  to  some  muscles  of 
pharynx. 

Common  sensation  to  part  of 
tongue,  pharynx,  oesopha- 
gus, stomach  and  respira- 
tory organs. 

Motor  (in  conjunction  with 
bulbar  part  of  spinal  ac- 
cessory) to  muscles  of 
pharynx,  oesophagus, 
stomach  and  intestine,  and 
respiratory  organs ;  inhi- 
bitory impulses  to  heart. 

Spinal  Part:  Motor  to  stern- 
omastoid  and  trapesius 
muscles. 

Motor  to  muscles  of  tongue. 


CONSCIOUSNESS  AND  THE   NERVOUS  SYSTEM      51 

The  Spinal  Nerves,  of  which  there  are  usually 
thirty-one  pairs,  are  attached  to  the  spinal  cord  and 
emerge  from  the  spinal  canal  through  openings  be- 
tween the  vertebrae  of  the  spinal  column,  and  pass 
to  the  various  parts  of  the  body.  They  are  named 
according  to  the  part  of  the  vertebral  canal  from 
which  they  emerge.  Thus  there  are  eight  pairs  of 
cervical  nerves,  twelve  pairs  of  thoracic  nerves, 
five  pairs  of  lumbar,  five  pairs  of  sacral,  and  one 
pair  of  coccygeal  nerves.  See  Fig.  2  (p.  18)  for 
the  points  of  attachment  of  the  spinal  nerves  to  the 
spinal  cord. 

The  Sympathetic,  or  Autonomic,  Nervous  System. — 
The  second  main  division  of  the  peripheral  nervous 
system  is  the  sympathetic,  or  autonomic,  system, 
which  comprises,  according  to  Hardesty's  classifica- 
tion : 

"(1)  the  two  chains  of  nerve  ganglia,  one  on  each  side  of 
the  spinal  column  and  running  parallel  therewith;  (see 
figure  2,  p.  18)  ;  (2)  the  great  pre- vertebral  plexuses,  i.  e., 
net  works  of  nerve  ganglia  and  nerve  fibers  lying  in  front 
of  the  vertebral  column,  of  which  there  are  roughly  three, — 
one  in  the  thorax,  one  in  the  abdomen,  and  one  in  the  pelvic 
cavity  (see  fig.  13,  p.  52)  ;  (3)  the  numerous  terminal 
ganglia  and  plexuses  situated  either  within  or  close  to  the 
walls  of  the  various  organs;  (4)  the  trunks  and  fibre 
bands  connecting  the  ganglia  with  each  other,  and  thus 
contributing  to  the  plexuses,  or  connecting  the  ganglia  with 
other  nerves  or  with  the  organs  with  whose  innervation 
they  are  concerned."  ^ 


Note.  The  name  autonomic  system,  used  by  some  authors, 
expresses  the  fact  that  this  system  is  in  a  measure  autonomous, 
independent  of  the  central  system. 

'  Morris,  Human  Anatomy^  Part  III,  p.   1002. 


Coccygeal  nerve 


5ACRAU 
PLEXUS- 


Fig.  13.  The  figure  represents  the  coarser  portions  of  the  sym- 
pathetic nervous  system  and  its  principal  connections  with  the 
cerebro-spinal   system.      (After  Morris,    modified.) 

(52) 


CONSCIOUSNESS  AND  THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM      53 

The  sympathetic  system  differs  from  the  cerebro- 
spinal system,  according  to  Hardesty,  (1)  in  the 
fact  that  the  cranial  and  spinal  nerves  are  struc- 
turally continuous  with  the  brain  and  spinal  cord, 
while  the  fibres  of  the  sympathetic  system  do  not 
actually  enter  the  central  system;  (2)  "the  cerebrb-" 
spinal  nerves  are  distributed  to  the  ordinary  sen- 
sory surfaces  of  the  body  and  the  organs  of  special 
sense,  and  to  the  somatic,  striated,  or  "voluntary" 
muscles  of  the  body;  the  sympathetic  fibres  (on  the 
other  hand)  are  devoted  chiefly  to  the  supply  of  the 
so-called  involuntary  muscles  of  the  body,  including 
the  smooth  muscle  in  the  walls  of  the  viscera  and 
in  the  walls  of  the  blood  and  lymph  vascular  systems, 
while  some  serve  as  secretory  fibres  to  the  glands."^ 
From  this  it  follows  (3)  that  the  sympathetic  sys- 
tem is  not  under  voluntary  control.  The  organic 
processes  which  depend  upon  the  sympathetic  sys- 
tem, e.  g.,  the  movements  of  the  stomach  and  intes- 
tines, the  secretions  of  the  digestive  tract,  heart 
action,  breathing,  contraction  of  the  arterial  mus- 
cles —  occur  reflexly,  and,  as  a  rule,  unconsciously. 

We  say,  'as  a  rule'  because  under  certain  conditions,  as 
we  shall  see  in  our  chapters  on  sensation,  feeling,  and  emo- 
tion, the  vegetative  processes  are  accompanied  by  sensory 
and  feeling  experiences. 

The  psychologist,  hovv^ever,  is  interested  in  the  sympa- 
thetic system  chiefly  because  it  is  mainly  through  this  (as 
a  bond  of  connection  between  the  cerebro-spinal  system  on 
the  one  hand  and  the  organs  of  circulation,  digestion,  and 
respiration  on  the  other)  that  the  course  of  our  mental  life 
produces  at  times  such  marked  changes  in  these  organs; 
and  because  it  forms  part  of  the  pathway  whereby  mental 


I 


^Morris,  Human  Anatomy,  899  f. 


54 


ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 


disturbances,  particularly  of  the  emotional  type,  are  related 
to   the  functioning  of  these  structures. 

And,  as  Angell  observes,  it  is  to  the  activity  of  these 
parts  "that  we  owe  our  general  sense  of  bodily  well- 
being,  as  well  as  our  feelings  of  distress  and  pain 
when  any  of  these  great  life  functions  goes  astray. 
Our  consciousness  is  undoubtedly  toned,  as  it  were, 


E^G.  14.  Typical  cell  bodies  of  the  neurones  of  the  human  nervous 
system.  A,  from  the  ventral  horn  of  the  spinal  cord ;  B, 
Purkinje  cell  from  the  cerebellar  cortex ;  C,  pyramidal  cell 
from  cerebral  cortex  ;  D,  Golgi  cell  from  sp.  cord  ;  E,  fusiform 
cell  from  cerebral   cortex. 


all  the  time  by  the  condition  and  activity  of  the 

organs  under  the  control  of  the  autonomic  system."^ 

In  the  preceding  paragraphs  of  this  chapter,  we 

have  endeavored  to  describe  the  general  arrange- 


^  Psychology,  1908,  p.   58. 


CONSCIOUSNESS  AND  THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM      55 

ment  of  the  human  nervous  system.  We  have  also 
stated  briefly  those  facts  in  respect  to  the  structure 
and  functions  of  those  parts  of  the  brain,  the  spinal 
cord,  the  cerebro-spinal  nerves,  and  the  sympathetic 
system,  which  are  of  most  interest  in  an  introduc- 
tory course  in  psychology.  It  is  next  in  order  to 
study  the  7ieuro7ie,  the  structural  and  functional  unit 
of  the  nervous  system. 

The  Neurone.  —  The  nervous  system  proper,  i.  e., 
exclusive  of  the  tissues  which  hold  its  parts  in  place 
and  exclusive  of  the  organs  which  nourish  it,  is 
composed  of  millions  of  thread-like  bodies  called 
'neurones.'  A  neurone,  or  nerve  cell,  consists  of  the 
cell-body  and  the  fiber-like  structures  called  cell- 
processes,  which  are  outgrowths  of  the  cell  body. 
The  processes  are  of  two  kinds:  (1)  The  dendrites, 
with  their  tree-like  branchings,  and  (2)  the  axones, 
slender  fibers,  uniform  in  diameter,  sometimes  short, 
sometimes  of  great  length,,  as  where  they  extend 
from  the  brain  cortex  to  the  lower  extremity  of  the 
spinal  cord,  or  from  the  lower  part  of  the  spinal 
cord  to  the  muscles  of  the  foot.  The  branches  from 
the  axones,  called  collaterals,  are  at  right  angles  to 
the  main  fiber,  instead  of  branching  tree-like  as  do 
the  dendritic  processes.     See  Figure  14,  C. 

Figure  14  gives  an  idea  of  the  varieties  of  form  of  the 
cell-bodies  and  processes  of  typical  neurones  of  the  human 
nervous  system.  Figure  15,  A-D,  (p.  56)  shows  "the 
phylogenetic  development  of  mature  nerve-cells  in  a  series 
of  vertebrates;  a-e,  the  ontogenetic  development  of  grow- 
ing cells  in  a  typical  mammal".     Donaldson  after  Cajal. 

The  Chief  Groups  of  Neurones.  —  From  one  point 
of  view,  the  nervous  system  may  be  described  as  an 


56 


ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 


Fig.  15.  A-D,  showing  the  phylogeneiic  development  of  mature  nerve- 
cells  in  a  series  of  vertebrates;  a-e,  the  ontogenetic  development  of 
growing  cells  in  a  typical  mammal ;  in  both  cases  only  pyramidal 
cells  from  the  cerebrum  are  shown;  A,  frog;  B,  lizard;  C,  rat; 
D,  man  ;  a,  neuroblast  without  dendrites ;  b,  commencing  dendrites  ; 
Cj  dendrites  further  developed ;  dj  first  appearance  of  collateral 
branches;  e,  further  dev-elopment  of  collaterals  and  dendrites  (Don- 
aldson from   S.  Ram6n  y  Cajal.) 


CONSCIOUSNESS  AND  THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM      57 

apparatus  which  receives  impulses  from  the  outlying 
parts  of  the  body,  and  which  transmits  these  im- 
pulses to  a  central  apparatus,  the  brain  or  spinal 
cord,  where  they  are  either  transmitted  directly,  or 
recombined  and  then  distributed,  to  the  motor  areas 
of  the  central  bodies,  whence  they  flow  to  the  mus- 
cular or  glandular  tissues. 

In  accordance  with  this  conception  of  the  func- 
tions of  the  nervous  system,  the  neurones  are  divided 
into  three  groups :  (1)  the  afferent,  or  sensory,  neu- 
rones, whose  function  is  to  receive  and  to  transmit 
to  the  central  nervous  system  impulses  that  originate 
in  the  sense  organs;  (2)  the  associating,  or  central 
neurones,  whose  function  is  to  receive  sensory  im- 
pulses and  to  transmit  them  at  once  or  to  form  them 
into  new  combinations,  then  to  distribute  them  to 
(3)  the  efferent,  or  motor  neurones,  whose  processes 
carry  impulses  to  the  muscles  or  to  other  bodily 
organs.  In  other  words,  there  are  (1)  neurones 
which  are  affected  directly  by  happenings  in  the  en- 
vironment, including  the  subject's  own  body;  (2) 
neurones  which  carry  impulses  to  the  muscles  and 
glands;  (3)  neurones  which  serve  as  paths  of  con- 
nection between  the  first  and  second  groups. 

Sensory  Neurones  and  Sense  Organs.  —  From  the 
foregoing  sketch  it  appears  that  the  sensory  neu- 
rones are  essential  parts  of  the  apparatus  for  the 
excitation  of  sensations.  In  some  cases,  the  neu- 
rones which  mediate  sensory  impulses  terminate 
peripherally  in  'free'  endings;  in  other  cases,  the 
peripheral  termination  of  a  sensory  neurone  is 
enclosed  in  a  'capsule';  in  still  others,  it  forms  a 
part  of  an  elaborate  structure,  such  as  the  eye  or 


58 


ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 


A 


E 


Fig.  16.  A,  End-bulb  of  Krause ;  B,  Meissner  corpuscle  from  skin; 
Cj  Motor  end-plate  on  striated  muscle  cell ;  Dj  Free  sensory- 
nerve  fibrils  in  epithelium ;  E,  Motor  termination  upon  smooth 
muscle-cell  ;  Fj  Sensory  nerve  termination  in  tendoi;  ;  Gj 
Pacinian  corpuscle.      (After  Morris   and  Davies. ) 


CONSCIOUSNESS  AND  THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM      59 

ear,  especially  arranged  to  control  the  effects  of 
certain  kinds  of  stimuli;  all  three  classes  of  organs 
—  the  'free'  endings,  the'  encapsulated  sensory  end- 
ings, as  well  as  the  more  elaborate  structures  —  are 
spoken  of  Sense  Organs, 

Free  Sensory  Endings. — These  are  found  in  vast 
numbers  in  the  skin  and  mucous  membranes.  Fig- 
ure 16,  D,  represents  the  mode  of  their  termination. 
Titchener  thinks  it  probable  that  the  organs  of  pain 
are  to  be  found  in  these  free  nerve  endings.^ 

The  Encapsulated  Sensory  Endings.  —  The  nerve 
endings  belonging  to  this  group  are  alike  in  consist- 
ing of  a  net-work  of  terminal  fibers,  embedded  in  a 
fluid-like  substance,  and  enclosed  in  a  thin  covering. 
The  following  are  the  best  known  structures  of  this 
class:  (1)  the  end-bulbs  of  Krause ;  (2)  Meissner's 
corpuscles;  (3)  Ruffini's  corpuscles;  (4)  the  Pacin- 
ian corpuscles ;  (5)  the  muscle  spindles ;  (6)  the  ten- 
dinous spindles. 

(1)  The  end-bulbs  of  Krause  (Fig.  16,  A)  are 
found  in  the  edge  of  the  eyelid,  the  lips  and  the 
mucous  membrane  of  the  mouth,  and  in  other  highly 
sensitive  tissues.  Their  function  is  possibly  to  me- 
diate the  sensation  of  cold. 

(2)  The  Meissner  corpuscles  (Fig.  16,  B)  are 
most  numerous  in  the  skin  covering  the  flexor  sur- 
faces of  the  palms  of  the  hands  and  the  soles  of  the 
feet.  They  are  also  distributed  over  the  back  of 
the  hand  and  foot,  the  inside  of  the  fore-arm,  the 
lips,  and  certain  parts  of  the  genital  organs.  These 
corpuscles  are  the  organs  of  the  pressure  (touch) 
sense  on  the  hairless  regions  of  the  cutaneous  sur- 
face. 


^A  Text-Book  of  Psychology,  p.  154. 


60  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

(3)  Ruffini's  corpuscles  are  comparatively  large 
bodies  and  lie  in  the  deeper  layers  of  the  skin. 
These  organs  perhaps  mediate  the  sensation  of 
warmth.     (Titchener). 

(4)  The  Pacinian  corpuscles  (Fig.  16,  G),  the 
largest  and  the  most  complex  of  the  sense-organs 
described  thus  far,  are  found,  in  man,  to  quote  Pier- 
sol,  "in  the  deeper  layers  of  the  connective  tissue 
layer  of  the  skin,  especially  on  the  palmar  and 
plantar  aspects  of  the  fingers  and  toes,  in  the  con- 
nective tissue  in  the  vicinity  of  the  joints,  in  ten- 
dons, in  the  sheath  of  the  muscles,  in  the  periosteum 
and  tunica  propria  of  the  serous  membranes,  the 
peritoneum,  pleura  and  pericardium."  Pacini's  cor- 
puscles are  supposed  to  be  pressure  sense-organs. 

(5)  The  muscle  spindles,  following  Piersol's  de- 
scription, "lie  within  the  connective  tissue  separat- 
ing the  bundles  of  voluntary  muscle  fibers  and  are 
long  spindle-shaped  structures,  varying  in  length 
from  1-5  mm.,  or  more,  and  in  width  from  .1-.3 
where  broadest.  They  are  widely  distributed,  being 
probably  present  in  all  the  skeletal  muscles,  and  are 
especially  numerous  in  the  small  muscles  of  the 
hand  and  foot."  The  muscle  spindles  are  possibly 
the  seat  of  'the  dragging,  sore,  tired  sensations' 
which  occur  when  the  muscle  is  pressed  firmly  or 
when  it  "is  thrown  into  forced  contraction  by  the 
electric  current."     (Titchener.) 

(6)  The  tendinous  spindles  are  also  spindle-like 
structures,  from  1-1.5  mm.  in  length,  found  in  the 
region  where  the  muscles  and  tendons  join.  In  re- 
gard to  the  function  of  these  organs,  Titchener  says, 
in  substance,  the  sensation  of  strain,  which  comes 


CONSCIOUSNESS  AND  THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM      61 

in  all  cases  of  severe  or  prolonged  muscular  work, 
appears  to  come  from  the  tendons  and  to  have  its 
organs  in  the  tendinous  spindles.^ 

The  Special  Sense  Organs.  ^ — It  was  said  above 
(p.  57)  that  the  sensitive  part  of  every  sense-organ 
consists  of  the  peripheral  termination  of  a  sensory- 
neurone  (or  neurones)  existing  either  as  'free' 
nerve-endings  or  as  encapsulated  bodies  or  as  the 
sensory  element  of  the  more  complicated  structures 
commonly  known  as  the  special  sense-organs,  the 
organs  of  taste,  smell,  sight,  and  hearing.  In  the 
paragraphs  immediately  preceding  we  have  noted 
certain  typical  structures  that  belong  to  the  first  two 
groups.  We  may  next  consider  briefly  the  termi- 
nation of  the  sensory  neurones  in  the  special  sense- 
organs. 

Organs  of  Taste.— The  nerves  of  taste  terminate 

peripherally  in  bodies 
called  'taste-buds,'  which 
are  distributed  chiefly  over 
the  tip,  the  borders,  and 
the  posterior  portion  of 
the  upper  side  of  the 
tongue.  The  taste-buds 
consist  of  two  classes  of 
cell-elements,  the  gusta- 
tory cells,  or  taste  cells 
proper,  and  the  supporting 
cells.  The  typical  arrange- 
ment of  the  two  classes 
of  cells  within  the  taste-buds  is  shown  in  Figure  17. 


^=a— ff 


Fig.  17.  Taste-bud.  A,  taste- 
pore  ;  B,  supporting  cells  ; 
C,  gustatory  cell. 


1 A  Text-Book  of  Psychology,  §§  38-50. 


62 


ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 


Organ  of  Smell. 


The  nerves  of  taste  enter  at  the  base  of  the  taste- 
bud,  then  rapidly  subdivide  into  fibrillse  which  wind 
their  way  among  the  cells  and  terminate  in  free 
endings  which  are  often  in  contact  with  the  gusta- 
tory cells.  Sensations  of  taste  originate  in  the  action 
of  chemical  changes  in  the  gustatory  cells  upon  the 
adjoining  nerve  fibrils.  The  excitation  of  the  fibrils 
is  transmitted  to  certain  nerve  cells  or  ganglia, 
thence  to  the  brain  cortex. 

The  olfactory  fibres  terminate 
in  the  olfactory 
cells,  the  end  or- 
gans for  the 
sense  of  smell. 
These  cells  are 
distributed  over 
a  small  area  in 
the  upper  part  of 
the  nasal  cham- 
ber. The  rela- 
tions of  the  olfac- 
tory cells  to  the 
surrounding  tis- 
sues are  shown 
in  Figure  18. 
The  Termination  of  the  Branches  of  the  Auditory 
Nerve.  —  The  student  may  recall  that  the  auditory 
nerve  consists  of  two  portions:  the  cochlear,  which 
transmits  sound  impulses,  and  the  vestibular,  which 
'is  concerned  with  peculiar  sensations  from  the 
semi-circular  canals  and  vestibule  that  have  an  im- 
portant influence  on  muscular  activity,  especially  in 


Fig.  18.  Section  of  olfactory  mucous 
membrane  (after  V.  Brunn)  :  the  ol- 
factory cells  are  in  black. —  (Donald- 
son.) 


CONSCIOUSNESS  AND  THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM      63 

complex  movements.'  The  fibres  of  the  cochlear 
branch  end  in  terminal  arborizations  which  lie  in 
contact  with  the  cells  of  the  organ  of  Corti,  an  elab- 
orate structure  situated  in  the  cochlea.  Physiology 
teaches  that  sensations  of  sound  are  due  to  the  effect 
which  sound  waves  produce  upon  the  sense-cells  of 
this  organ.    The  fibres  of  the  vestibular  branches  of 


Fig.  19.  Semidiagrammatic  section  through  the  right  ear  (Czer- 
mak)  :  G,  External  auditory  meatus;  T,  membrana  tympani ; 
Pj  tympanic  cavity ;  o,  fenestra  ovalis ;  r,  fenestra  rotunda ; 
B,  semicircular  canal ;  S,  cochlea ;  Vt,  scala  vestibuli ;  Pt, 
scala   tympani ;     Ej   Eustachian   tube. 

the  auditory  nerve  terminate  in  certain  membranes 
of  the  vestibule  and  the  semi-circular  canals  of  the 
inner  ear.  (Fig.  19  shows  a  semi-diagrammatic  sec- 
tion through  the  right  ear.) 

The  Termination  of  the  Optic  Nerve  Fibres.  —  The 
nerve  fibres  composing  the  optic  nerve  spread  ra- 


64 


ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 


dially  from  the  point  at  which  the  optic  nerve 
pierces  the  choroid  coat  of  the  eye-ball,  forming  a 
thin  film  known  as  the  retina,  which  covers  the  in- 
side of  the  posterior  surface  of  the  eye-ball.  (Fig. 
20).  The  retina,  which  contains  the  organs  whose 
stimulation   gives   rise  to  the  visual  sensations   is 


r  n 


Fig.   20.     Horizontal  section  through  the  left  eye.      (From  Ladd's 
Elements  of  Physiol.  Psych.     Fig.   48,  modified.) 


composed  essentially  of  nine  layers  of  nerve  cells 
and  fibres,  the  innermost  being  the  layer  of  nerve 
cells  known  as  rods  and  cones.  See  Figure  21, 
which  shows  a  diagrammatic  section  of  seven  of  the 
layers  of  the  retina. 


CONSCIOUSNESS  AND  THE   NERVOUS   SYSTEM      65 

Physiology  teaches  that  the  rods  and  cones  con- 
tain chemical  substances  which  freely  change  under 
the  influence  of  light  waves,  and  that  the  changes 
thus  induced  start  impulses  which  traverse  the 
outer  layers  of  the  retina  to  the  radial  branches  of 


Fig.  21.  Diagrammatic  representation  of  tlie  structure  of  the 
retina  (Cajal)  :  A,  layer  of  rods  and  cones;  B^  external 
nuclear  layer;  C,  external  molecular  (or  plexiform)  layer;  Ej 
internal  nuclear  layer;  Fj  internal  molecular  (or  plexiform) 
layer ;    Gj  layer  of  ganglion-cells ;    H^  layer  of  nerve-fibres. 

the  optic  nerve,  and  are  then  transmitted  along  the 
latter  to  the  optical  centers  of  the  cerebral  cortex 
giving  rise  to  the  sensations  of  sight. 

This  section  began  with  the  statement    (p.   57) 
that  the  human  nervous  system  consists  essentially 


66  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

of  three  classes  of  neurones:  (1)  those  concerned 
with  the  transmission  of  sensory  impulses;  (2) 
those  which  convey  motor  impulses  from  the  brain 
and  spinal  cord  to  the  outlying  parts  of  the  body; 
(3)  those  connecting  the  sensory  and  motor  neu- 
rones. In  the  preceding  paragraphs,  we  have 
studied  the  sensory  neurone  as  a  sense  organ,  and 
we  have  learned  something  of  the  variety,  and,  in 
certain  instances,  the  complexity,  of  the  organs  in- 
volved in  the  process  of  gathering  and  transmitting 
sensory  impulses.  It  remains  to  state  more  defi- 
nitely the  structural  and  functional  relations  of  the 
motor  and  the  associative  neurones. 

The  Motor  Neurones  and  Motor  Organs. — The 
motor  neurones  terminate  peripherally  either  in  the 
voluntary  muscles,  those  which  are  under  conscious 
control,  or  in  the  non-voluntary,  e.  g.,  the  muscles 
of  the  walls  of  the  blood  vessels  or  of  the  intestine 
which  are  not  subject  to  conscious  control.  In  the 
voluntary  muscles  the  neurones  terminate  in  minute 
oval-shaped  bodies  called  end-plates.  (See  Fig.  16  C, 
p.  58).  In  the  non-voluntary,  the  axones  terminate 
'in  minute  terminal  knots  on  the  surface  of  the  mus- 
cle-cells'. Fig.  16,  E.  (Piersol).  In  voluntary  move- 
ments, the  nervous  impulse  causing  muscular  con- 
traction terminates  in  the  end-plate. 

The  Associative  Neurones.  -—  According  to  the 
view  developed  in  this  text  thus  far,  the  primary 
function  of  the  nervous  system  is  to  enable  an  ani- 
mal, human  or  other,  to  make  the  appropriate  re- 
sponses to  the  environmental  influences  so  that  on 
the  whole  it  shall  prosper  and  its  days  in  the  land 
shall  be  long.     And  we  have  seen  that  the  higher 


CONSCIOUSNESS  AND  THE   NERVOUS  SYSTEM      67 

organisms  are  provided  with  an  elaborate  apparatus 
for  receiving  impulses  from  the  outside  world,  and 
also  with  motor  machinery  for  responding  to  these 
impulses.  We  have  seen  also  that  the  sensory  neu- 
rones form  an  essential  feature  of  the  former,  the 
receiving  apparatus,  and  that  the  motor  neurones 
are  likewise  essential  to  the  latter.  We  have  next 
to  recall  that  in  the  higher  organisms  the  path  from 
the  terminus  of  the  incoming  impulse  to  the  point 
of  origin  of  the  outgoing,  or  motor,  impulse  is  often 
long  and  tortuous,  and  that  the  paths  are  formed 
by  the  structures  already  referred  to  as  the  asso- 
ciation, or  central,  neurones.  These  bodies  lie  wholly 
within  the  central  nervous  system  and  their  function 
is  to  distribute  incoming  impulses  to  other  parts  of 
this  system.  And  it  is  possible  through  their  medi- 
ation, as  Thomdike  says,  that  almost  any  kind  of 
sensory  stimulus  —  visual,  auditory,  pain,  warm, 
gustatory,  what  not  —  may  be  connected  with  any 
set  of  motor  cells  and  so  influence  any  bodily  act.^ 

REFERENCES 

Donaldson:  American  Text-Book  of  Physiology,  Vol.  II, 
pp.  171-297. 

Howell:  Text-Book  of  Physiology,  Sections  II,  III. 

Judd:  Psychology,  Chs.  II,  III. 

Ladd  and  Woodworth:  Elements  of  Physiological  Psychol- 
ogy. 

McDougall:   Primer  of  Physiological  Psychology. 

Morris:  Human  Anatomy,  Part  III. 

Piersol:  Human  Anatomy,  Vol.  II. 

Wundt:   Principles  of  Physiological  Psychology. 

^Elements   of  Psychology,  1905,   p.    149. 


CHAPTER  III 
SENSATION  IN  GENERAL' 

Definition.  —  If  the  student  should  search  out  and 
compare  the  definitions  of  Sensation  in  a  series  of 
representative  modern  text-books  of  psychology,  his 
first  impression  would  be  that  there  is  but  slight 
similarity  among  them.  Thus,  one  author  stresses 
the  fact  that  sensation  is  a  form  of  consciousness 
which  depends  upon  the  stimulation  of  a  sense- 
organ  by  some  ag-ency  outside  the  nervous  system; 
another,  that  sensation  makes  us  acquainted  with 
the  qualities  of  the  objects  which  stimulate  these 
organs,  e.  g.,  the  sourness  of  lemonade,  the  green- 
ness of  the  grass,  or  the  coldness  of  ice;  a  third 
author  emphasizes  the  fact  of  the  elementariness, 
or  simplicity,  of  sensations  as  compared  "with,  e.  g., 
perceptions  and  memories;  still  a  fourth,  thinking 
for  the  time  being  about  the  order  of  the  appearance 
of  the  various  kinds  of  conscious  experience  in  the 
developing  mind  of  the  child,  defines  sensation  as 
'the  first  thing  in  the  way  of  consciousness,'  Now 
all  these  authors  are  describing  the  same  mental 
phenomena,  but  they  are  describing  them  in  different 
ways  because  their  points  of  view  or  purposes  differ. 
One  emphasizes  one  distinctive  feature  of  sensation ; 


1  The  discussion  of  Sensation  and  of  the  Classes  of  Sensations  in 
this  and  the  following'  chapter  follows,  in  the  main,  Titchener's 
treatment  of  these  topics  in  his  Text-Book  of  Psychology,  §§  10-59. 

(68) 


SENSATION    IN   GENERAL  69 

a  second,  another,  and  so  on  —  the  fact  being  that 
a  complete  definition  of  sensation  includes  an  enu- 
meration of  all  the  four  characteristics  just  men- 
tioned, and  possibly  others.  We  may  say,  then,  that 
sensations  are  those  elementary  conscious  processes 
which  are  in  immediate  dependency  upon  the  stim- 
ulation of  the  sense-organs,  that  they  are  essential 
to  our  knowledge  of  the  outside  world,  including  our 
own  bodies,  and  that,  temporally  regarded,  they  are 
the  earliest  forms  of  consciousness.  Each  of  these 
four  items  of  our  definition,  which  are,  as  we  have 
seen,  so  many  ways  of  regarding  sensations,  re- 
quires a  few  further  words  of  explanation.  And 
first  of  — 

Sensations  as  Mental  Elements.— This  way  of  con- 
ceiving of  sensation  is  employed  chiefly  by  those 
psychologists  who  study  the  mental  life  from  the 
structural  point  of  view  as  described  above  (p.  7f.). 
Indeed,  the  words  'element-  and  'elementary'  are 
primarily  structural  terms;  they  suggest  make-up, 
constitution.  So  to  describe  sensations  as  mental 
elements  involves  the  additional  view  that  in  the 
analysis  of  our  complex  consciousnesses,  our  per- 
ceptions, memories,  imaginations,  into  their  sim- 
plest, most  elementary  parts,  we  shall  come  upon 
sensations,  upon  colors,  sounds,  tastes,  odors,  which 
resist  all  further  effort  to  resolve  them  into  simpler 
parts. 

The  meaning  of  the  statement  that  sensation  is  a 
structural  element  of  consciousness  may  be  made 
clearer,  perhaps,  by  remarking  that  it  relates  solely 
to  a  mental  phenomenon  or  process,  and  not  to  some- 


70  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

thing  outside  the  mind,  to  things  of  the  material 
world.  Thus  'red,'  as  a  sensation  element,  is  a  red 
consciousness,  so  to  speak,  not  a  red  something 
which  one  sees  in  the  external  world;  and  a  sensa- 
tion of  cold  is  not  a  sensation  of  a  cold  something, 
but  a  cold  consciousness.  To  quote  Titchener,  "The 
sensation  'blue'  (as  a  structural  element  of  con- 
sciousness) does  not  tell  us  of  a  blue  object'  .  .  . 
.    .    It  simply  presents  itself  as  a  mental  irreducible 

If  the  student  insist,  as  at  first  he 

may,  that  he  cannot  possibly  think  of  a  'blue'  that 
is  not  a  'blue  something' — remind  him  that  "he  is 
not  to  'think  of  blue  at  all,  but  to  be  a  blue;  his 
consciousness  is  to  be  a  blue  consciousness."  The 
sensation  'blue'  is  to  be  stripped  'of  all  the  overlay 
of  associated  processes  that  make  'blue'  mean  'the 
blueness  of  something'  in  everyday  life."^ 

Furthermore,  it  should  be  borne  in  mind  that 
when  the  psychologist  speaks  of  sensations  as  men- 
tal elements,  he  does  not  mean  little  particles  or 
atoms  of  mind  which  can  be  separated  out  from  the 
total  consciousness,  as  one  may  separate  the  beads 
on  a  string.  Not  only  is  this  way  of  conceiving  of 
a  mental  element  preposterous  in  itself;  but  when 
once  lodged  it  straightway  becomes  the  source  of 
several  psychological  absurdities.  One  of  these  re- 
sulting false  notions  is  that  strong,  intense,  volum- 
inous sensations  are  composed  of  a  number  of 
smaller,  weaker  sensations;  that,  for  example,  an 
intense  bitter  consists  of  a  number  of  weaker  bit- 


^  Experimental  Psychology,  1901,  Vol.  I,  p.  4. 


SENSATION    IN   GENERAL  71 

ters,  a  loud  tone  of  a  fusion  of  fainter  tones.  In 
truth,  each  sensation,  whether  faint  or  intense,  tiny 
or  voluminous,  momentary  or  prolonged,  is  in  James' 
words,  "a  complete  integer,  an  indivisible  unit." 

A  second  erroneous  notion  that  arises  easily  from 
the  supposition  that  mental  elements  are  real  bits 
or  fragments  of  mind,  existing  at  first  isolatedly, 
is  that  mental  development  consists  in  the  gradual 
aggregation  of  these  elements.  The  truer  view  is 
that  at  first  the  baby's  mental  experience  consists 
of  a  vague,  confused  mass  of  sensations  and  feel- 
ings; and  that  'the  world  of  sense',  as  Thorndike 
writes,  'comes  not  as  a  building  constructed  of  small 
pieces  of  bricks  and  mortar  and  glass,  but  as  a  land- 
scape gradually  clearing  up  from  the  obscurity  of  a 
fog."^ 

(2)  Sensation  and  Sensory  Stimulus.  —  Sensations 
are  distinguished  from  other  mental  phenomena  by 
the  fact  that  they  depend  entirely  upon  impulses 
originating  in  the  stimulation  of  the  sense-organs. 
The  stimuli,  which  are  always  external  to  the  ner- 
vous system,  may  originate  either  outside  the  body 
or  in  some  change  in  the  internal  bodily  organs. 
Sound  waves,  the  stimuli  to  hearing,  are  external 
stimuli ;  the  changes  in  the  digestive  tract  which 
cause  hunger  are  internal  stimuli. 

A  'stimulus'  may  be  defined  as  an  agency  outside  the 
nervous  system  and  acting  upon  it  so  as  to  cause  either  a 
sensation  or  a  movement  of  some  part  of  the  body  or  both. 
A  liminal,  or  just  noticeable,  or  minimal,  stimulus  is  one 
whose  intensity  is  so  weak,  or  whose  duration  is  so  brief,  or 


''■Elements  of  Psycholofiy,  1905,  p.   22 


72  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

whose  extent  or  area  is  so  small,  that  it  is  barely  sensible. 
A  terminal,  or  maximal,  stimulus,  is  one  whose  increase 
either  in  intensity  or  duration  or  extensity  no  longer  pro- 
duces any  change  in  consciousness.  A  subliminal  stimulus 
is  one  which  is  too  weak  or  too  brief  or  too  small  to  be 
sensed. 

In  this  connection  it  is  important,  as  Stout  re- 
marks, "to  distinguish  the  cause,  i,  e.,  'the  essential 
antecedents'  of  sensation  from  the  object  of  sense- 
perception.  .  .  .  The  colour  sensation,  for  in- 
stance, is  due  to  a  vibratory  motion  of  the  particles 
of  the  luminiferous  ether,  giving  rise  to  certain 
chemical  or  physical  changes  in  the  organ  of  vision, 
and  so  to  a  certain  modification  of  connected  parts 
of  the  nervous  system.  But  these  conditions  are  not 
what  a  man  sees  when  he  perceives  the  color  red  or 
blue."'  Similarly,  we  must  distinguish  the  sounds 
which  one  hears  when  a  bell  is  rung  from  the  suc- 
cession of  sound  waves  (the  stimulus)  and  the 
changes,  'the  essential  antecedents'  of  the  sound 
sensation,  which  ^hey  produce  in  the  organ  of  hear- 
ing and  the  connected  parts  of  the  nervous  system. 

(3)  Sensation  and  Knowledge  of  the  Outside  World. 
We  have  seen  that  some  psychologists  define  sensa- 
tion as  the  consciousness  of  the  qualities  of  material 
things,  as  of  redness,  blueness,  coldness,  sweetness, 
and  so  on.  In  this  case,  emphasis  is  laid  upon  the 
cognitive,  or  knowledge  furnishing,  function  of  sen- 
sations. "Sensations,"  we  are  told,  "make  us  ac- 
quainted with  innumerable  material  things."  Pos- 
sibly this  way  of  conceiving  of  sensation  may  be 


1  Stout,  Manual  V-   118  f- 


SENSATION   IN   GENERAL  73 

made  clearer  by  considering  the  answer  which  you 
probably  would  give  to  the  question,  "How  did  you 
learn  of  the  existence  of  the  things  which  make  up 
the  physical  world,  the  things  of  earth  and  sky, 
plants,  animals,  clouds,  the  moon,  the  stars?"  You 
would  say,  very  likely,  "through  the  senses,"  and 
your  answer,  while  partial  and  incomplete,  would 
be  correct  in  the  meaning  that  sensations  are  the 
essential  elements,  the  raw  material  out  of  which 
your  knowledge  of  the  existence  of  the  material 
world  is  constructed,  and  in  the  sense  that  without 
the  matter  given  in  sensation,  you  could  have  no 
such  knowledge.  A  familiar  illustration  of  the  de- 
pendency of  our  knowledge  of  the  external  world 
upon  sensations  is  found  in  the  fact  that  a  person 
blind  from  birth  would  never  learn,  unaided,  of  the 
existence  of  the  moon  and  stars.  Likewise,  for  a 
deaf-born  person,  soft  music  or  thunder  does  not 
exist.  Illustrations  of  this  sort  make  it  seem  a  mere 
commonplace  to  say  that  sensation  is  a  necessary 
element  of  our  knowledge  of  the  physical  world. 

It  is  of  interest  to  note  certain  differences  amons'  sensations 
in  respect  to  their  value  as  basic  material  for  knowledfve  of  the 
external  world.  Contrast,  for  example,  sight  sensations  with  those 
of  hunger,  or  thirst,  or  nausea.  The  former  clearly  "make  us 
acquainted"  with  innumerable  outside  things,  while  the  latter  tell 
us  little  or  nothing  about  the  objects  of  the  material  world.  In 
general  we  may  say  that  the  sensations  of  the  special  senses 
are  rich  in  the  elements  of  knowledge  of  things  outside  the  body, 
while  the  organic  sensations  are  poor. 

(4)  Sensations  as  the  Earliest  Forms  of  Conscious- 
ness. — If  we  were  able  to  recall  the  mental  expe- 
riences of  the  first  days  or  hours  of  our  lives,  prob- 


74  ELEMENTS   OF  PSYCHOLOGY 

ably  we  should  find  that  they  consisted  largely  of 
sensations,  or  rather  of  sensation  masses.  The 
baby's  brain  is  at  first  wrapped  in  deep  slumber, 
then  roused  to  action  by  nerve  impulses  from  sense- 
organs,  whereupon  the  'miracle  of  consciousness' 
bursts  forth  in  the  form  of  sensation.  Accordingly, 
from  the  genetic  point  of  view,  sensations  are 
marked  off  from  other  forms  of  mental  experience 
as  the  first  things  in  the  way  of  consciousness. 

Pure  Sensations.  —  "Pure  sensations,"  says  James, 
"can  only  be  realized  in  the  earliest  days  of  life. 
They  are  all  but  impossible  to  adults  with  memo- 
ries and  stores  of  associations  acquired."  Sensations 
springing  up  in  the  adult  consciousness  are  forth- 
with referred  either  to  the  objects  which  are  thought 
to  cause  them,  or  to  some  part  of  the  body.  Thus, 
the  mental  changes  due  to  the  rumble  of  a  passing 
wagon,  or  to  glancing  out  of  the  window  at  adjoin- 
ing buildings,  or  by  an  air  current  laden  with  odors 
from  a  bakery,  awaken  images  or  ideas  of  the  wagon 
on  the  street,  of  houses  out  there,  of  the  bake-shop 
across. the  way.  In  ordinary  speech  we  say  that  the 
sensations  suggest  or  revive  the  ideas  of  the  objects 
which  cause  them.  This  occurs  in  the  mind  which 
has  reached  a  certain  stage  of  development.  But 
it  seems  probable  that  in  the  first  days  or  weeks  of 
a  baby's  life  its  consciousness  consists  of  nothing 
but  sensations,  or  sensation  complexes,  (plus  their 
accompanying  feelings  of  pleasantness  and  unpleas- 
antness), a  mere  sequence  of  flashes  or  shocks  of 
lights  and  sounds,  of  touches  and  tastes,  now  a 
twinge  of  pain,  now  a  pungent  odor,  now  a  sweet  or 


SENSATION    IN   GENERAL  75 

bitter  taste,  now  a  shudder  of  cold,  each  pulse  of 
sensation  being  independent  of  every  other,  inviting 
no  comparisons,  suggesting  nothing,  fading  out  and 
leaving  no  traces  and  so  no  memories  of  its  having 
been  —  each  one  merely  appearing  in  the  wake  of 
the  appropriate  physical  processes  and  disappear- 
ing, leaving  not  a  wrack  behind.  Such  a  mind  would 
consist  of  a  series  of  bare  sensations,  isolated  from 
everything  else  in  the  world.  Here  we  should  find 
our  'pure'  sensations,  here  we  should  find  the  expe- 
riences indicated  by  Condillac's  striking  phrase, 
quoted  by  James,  "the  first  time  we  see  light,  we  are 
it  rather  than  see  it." 

It  seems  likely  that  the  mental  life  of  many  of  the  lower 
animals  consists  wholly  of  a  series  of  pure  sensations,  in 
the  sense  just  described.  A  sensation  in  these  creatures 
leaves  no  traces,  it  enters  into  no  associations,  it  awakens 
no  memories  of  former  similar  objects  or  experiences;  its 
function  is  exhausted  in  exciting  its  appropriate  motor  re- 
sponse. 

The  Differentiation  of  Sensory  Qualities.  —  The 
consciousness  resulting  when  nerve  currents  from 
a  number  of  sensory  sources  pour  into  the  newborn 
infant's  brain  is  vividly  pictured  in  James'  oft- 
quoted  sentence  —  "the  baby,  assailed  by  eyes,  ears, 
nose,  and  entrails  at  once,  feels  it  all  as  one  big, 
blooming,  buzzing  Confusion."  Probably  impres- 
sions from  the  organs  of  taste,  temperature,  pres- 
sure, pain,  and  possibly  others,  reach  the  cortical 
areas  from  the  first;  but  their  total  efl'ect  in  con- 
sciousness is  a  vague,  undiff'erentiated  sensation 
mass.     Now,  in  the  course  of  mental  development, 


76  ■    ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

the  individual's  sensory  experience  undergoes  differ- 
tiation,  and  this  process  follows  in  the  main  two 
directions.  First,  the  great  classes  of  sensations 
emerge;  visual  sensations,  e.  g.,  are  no  longer 
merged  in  a  vague  total  consciousness,  but  gradually 
acquire  distinctness  and  separateness  in  the  infant's 
mental  life.  So  with  the  other  great  groups  of  sen- 
sations —  auditory,  gustatory,  olfactory,  and  so  on ; 
each  group  is  differentiated  step  by  step  from  the 
other  groups. 

Of  course  at  this  stage  the  child  does  not  think  of  the 
differences  themselves;  he  does  not  reflect,  'this  experience  is 
different  from  the  immediately  preceding  one'.  Thoughts  of 
this  kind  belong  to  a  distinctly  higher  level  of  mental  de- 
velopment; they  are  sometimes  called  acts  of  conscious  dis- 
crimination. Perhaps  the  distinction  between  the  differen- 
tiation of  sensory  experiences  and  the  consciousness  of  dif- 
ference between  two  sensations  may  be  expressed  by  saying 
that  in  the  former  process  different  sensations  are  exper- 
ienced, while  in  the  latter  the  nature  of  the  difference  is  the 
subject  of  thought.  In  the  former  case,  the  difference  exists 
in  consciousness,  but  it  is  not  an  object  of  consciousness. 

A  second  form  of  differentiation  of  sensory  expe- 
rience consists  in  the  appearance  of  distinctions 
within  the  several  sensation  groups.  For  instance, 
the  consciousness  of  blue  is,  in  time,  marked  off 
from  that  of  green;  that  of  yellow,  from  orange; 
sour,  from  bitter;  ethereal,  from  aromatic.  Now, 
the  capacity  to  experience  more  and  more  sensory 
qualities  within  the  same  sensation  group  reaches 
a  very  high  degree  of  development,  particularly  in 
the  fields  of  vision  and  hearing.  Thus  it  is  possible 
to  distinguish  more  than  30,000  visual  qualities  and 


SENSATION    IN   GENERAL  77 

more  than  11,000  different  tones.  Again,  in  addi- 
tion to  the  fundamental  distinctions  of  the  qualities 
of  sensory  experiences,  distinctions  of  sensational 
intensity,  extensity,  and  duration,  gradually  make 
their  appearance,  and  with  these  the  development 
of  the  individual's  capacity  for  experiencing  sensa- 
tion differences  is  completed. 

The  Attributes  of  Sensation.  —  In  everyday  speech 
the  word  'attribute'  may  relate  either  to  the  essen- 
tial or  to  the  non-essential  properties  of  objects.  In 
the  former  case,  the  term  refers  to  something  with- 
out which  a  given  object  would  cease  to  be;  in  the 
latter,  it  refers  to  something  which  seems  to  be  at- 
tached, or  added,  to  the  essential  stuff  of  which  the 
object  is  constituted,  and  it  may  or  may  not  be  pres- 
ent. Thus  it  is  an  essential  attribute  of  glass  that 
it  shall  have  weight;  but  brittleness,  pliability, 
transparency,  and  opacity  are  classed  among  its 
non-essential  attributes.  Again,  fluidity  is  an  essen- 
tial attribute  of  water;  with  the  disappearance  of 
this  attribute,  water  as  water  no  longer  exists,  while 
coldness  and  warmth  are  two  of  its  non-essential 
properties  or  attributes.  Now,  when  the  psychol- 
ogist speaks  of  the  'attributes'  of  a  sensation  he 
means  its  essential  properties,  those  without  which 
the  sensation  cannot  come  into  being,  those  whose 
disappearance  involves  also  the  disappearance  of 
the  sensation.  Thus  it  is  clear  that  the  reduction 
of  any  sensation's  intensity  to  zero  involves  the  dis- 
appearance of  the  sensation  itself.  Accordingly, 
intensity  is  included  in  the  list  of  its  essential  prop- 
erties or  attributes.  In  short,  a  sensation's  attri- 
butes are  inherent,  and  not  adherent. 


78  ELEMENTS   OF  PSYCHOLOGY 

We  may  next  enumerate  and  describe  briefly  the 
several  attributes  or  essential  properties  of  sensa- 
tions. Psychologists  differ  slightly  as  to  what  shall 
be  included  in  such  an  enumeration,  but  we  shall  be 
on  safe  ground  if  we  accept  Titchener's  list,  which 
includes  —  quality,  intensity,  clearness,  duration, 
and,  in  the  case  of  certain  sensations  —  extent. 

Quality.  —  Sensations  are  distinguished,  named 
and  classified  primarily  according  to  their  qualities. 
Thus  blue,  red,  salt,  bitter,  cold,  warm,  are  names 
of  sensation  qualities ;  the  most  obvious  and  striking 
differences  and  likenesses  among  sensations  are 
differences  and  likenesses  of  quality.  Again,  quality 
is  the  basis  of  the  classification  of  sensations  as 
visual,  auditory,  olfactory,  gustatory,  and  so  on. 
'Quality,'  says  Kulpe,  'is  the  very  essence  of  a  sen- 
sation.' For  these  reasons  some  psychologists  call 
quality  the  'fundamental'  attribute  of  sensation; 
other  psychologists,  for  similar  reasons,  call  it  the 
distinguishing,  individualising  sensation  attribute. 

Intensity.  —  Every  sensation  has,  besides  its  dis- 
tinctive quality,  a  certain  intensity,  or  strength. 
Thus  a  given  sensation  of  taste  or  sound  or  temper- 
ature may  be  extremely  weak,  barely  sensible ;  or  it 
may  be  of  any  degree  of  intensity  between  the  lower 
limit  where  it  is  barely  sensed  and  the  upper  limit 
of  sensibility  where  it  either  ceases  to  grow  in  in- 
tensity or  gives  place  to  some  other  experience. 
Such  expressions  as  —  extremely  cold,  intensely  bit- 
ter, barely  warm,  very  faint  (of  sound)  —  relate  to 
the  attribute  of  intensity  of  these  several  sensations. 


SENSATION    IN    GENERAL  79 

Clearness.  —  We  compare  sensations  in  respect 
to  the  attribute  of  clearness  when  we  say  that  one  is 
in  the  'focus'  or  foreground  of  consciousness  and 
that  another  is  in  the  'margin'  or  background. 
Sensations  vary  in  respect  to  the  attribute  of  clear- 
ness between  the  lower  limit  of  the  extremely  ob- 
scure, the  barely  noticed,  and  the  upper  limit  of 
clearness,  where  the  sensation  is  the  only  thing  in 
consciousness,  where  the  sensation  of  the  moment 
and  consciousness  are  identical. 

Duration:  Extent.  —  "Duration  is  the  attribute  of 
sensation  that  we  attend  to,"  says  Titchener,  "when 
we  answer  the  questions :  How  long  does  it  last  ? 
When  does  it  appear?  Has  it  gone  out  yet?  Is  it 
steady  or  interrupted?" 

Besides  the  four  attributes  just  mentioned,  cer- 
tain classes  of  sensation  have  also  the  attribute  of 
extent  which,  to  quote  Titchener  further,  "is  the 
aspect  of  sensation  that  we  attend  to  when  we  are 

called  upon  to  answer  the  questions 

how  large  is  it?  what  shape  has  it?  is  it  regular 
or  irregular?  large  or  small?  continuous  or  patchy? 
uniform  or  broken?"^ 

Next  we  may  inquire,  have  the  various  classes  of 
sensations  the  same  attributes?  And  we  answer, 
still  quoting  Titchener:  "All  sensations,  without  ex- 
ception, possess  the  attributes  of  quality,  intensity, 
clearness  and  duration."  Only  two  groups  of  sen- 
sations— those  of  sight  and  pressure — have,  beyond 
question,  also  the  fifth  attribute  of  our  list,  namely, 


^  Elementary   Psychology   of   Feeling   and    Attention,   1908,    Lec- 
ture I. 


80  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

extensity.  For  example,  it  would  seem  as  nonsens- 
ical to  inquire  concerning  the  area  or  extent  of  a 
given  odor  or  taste,  as  it  would  to  ask,  what  color  is 
it?  Area,  or  extent,  is  not  an  attribute  of  the  sen- 
sations of  either  smell  or  taste.  On  the  other  hand, 
it  seems  natural  to  describe  visual  and  pressure  sen- 
sations as  extended.  Indeed,  to  think  away  the  ex- 
tensity,  or  area,  of  a  visual  or  pressure  sensation  is 
to  think  away  the  sensation  itself. 

The  Classification  of  Sensations. — Sensations  may 
be  classified  conveniently,  though  roughly,  by  refer- 
ence to  the  bodily  organs  immediately  concerned  in 
their  production.  Thus  we  have  eye  sensations,  ear 
sensations,  nose  sensations,  sensations  from  the  cir- 
culatory system,  and  so  on.  Sensations  may  also  be 
classified  on  the  basis  of  their  qualitative  resem- 
blances. This  principle  is  useful  particularly  in 
classifying  the  sensations  from  the  so-called  special 
sense-organs  —  the  eye,  ear,  nose,  mouth,  tongue, 
and  skin.  Finally,  sensations  may  be  classified  ac- 
cording to  the  stimuli  which  evoke  them.  In  this 
case,  sensations  would  fall  into  two  great  groups : 
>(a)  sensations  from  external  stimuli,  and  (b)  sen- 
sations whose  stimuli  consist  in  changes  in  the  in- 
ternal bodily  organs.  But  it  must  be  said  that  in 
the  present  state  of  our  knowledge,  it  is  not  possible 
to  make  an  entirely  satisfactory  classification  of  the 
sensations,  even  by  employing  freely  the  three  prin- 
ciples just  stated. 

The  table  which  follows  makes  no  pretension  of 
being  scientifically  complete;  but  it  may  give  the 
student  a  provisional  and  general  idea  of  the  main 


SENSATION   IN   GENERAL 


81 


divisions  of  the  field  of  our  sensory  experience.  The 
first  five  groups  of  the  table  are  called  Sensations 
of  the  Special  Senses;  the  remaining  seven  g'roups 
are  Organic  Sensations. 


SENSE  ORGANS. 

The   rods   and   cones   of 
the  retinae. 

The  cochlea   of  the   in- 
ternal ear. 

The  nose.      (The  olfac- 
tory cells). 


The  tongue,  parts  of  the 
mouth  and  palate. 
(The  taste  buds). 


5.  The  skin.  (The  encap- 
sulated sensory  nerve 
endings ;  free  nerve 
endings,  see  p.  59f ) . 

G.  Vestibule  and  semicir- 
cular canals  of  the  in- 
ternal ear. 

7.  The  muscles. 

8.  The  tendons. 

9.  Surfaces  of  the  joints. 

10.  The  alimentary  canal. 

11.  The  circulatory  system. 


12.     The  respiratory  system. 


SENSATIONS. 

Visual  sensations: 

(a)  brightness, 

(b)  color. 
Auditory  sensations : 

(a)  noises, 

(b)  tones. 
Olfactory  sensations: 

(a)  ethereal, 

(b)  aromatic, 

(c)  fragrant,  etc. 
Gustatory  sensations : 

(a)  sweet, 

(b)  sour, 

(c)  salt, 

(d)  bitter. 
Cutaneous  sensations: 

(a)  pressure, 

(b)  warmth, 

(c)  coldness, 

(d)  pain. 

Sensations  of  movement  and 
position. 

Muscular  sensations: 
(pressure,  fatigue?) 

Tendinous  sensations. 

Articular  sensations. 

The  complex  sensations  of 
hunger,  thirst,  nausea,  etc. 

The  complex  sensations  of 
throbbing,  oppression,  shiv- 
ering. 

Sensations  of  stuffiness,  suf- 
focation or  of  freshness 
and  vigor. 


CHAPTER  IV 

CLASSES  OF  SENSATIONS 
VISUAL   SENSATIONS 

Classes  of  Visual  Sensations. —There  are  two 
great  systems,  or  series,  of  visual  sensations  —  the 
color,  or  chromatic,  series  and  the  white-gray-black, 
or  achromatic,  series.     The  color  system  includes: 

(1)  The  principal  colors  —  red,  yellow,  green,  blue; 

(2)  the  intermediate  hues,  e.  g.,  orange,  olive,  blue- 
green;  (3)  the  sensations  due  to  variations  of  tint 
and  shade,  e.  g.,  pink,  pale-green,  brown;  (4)  the 
sensations  due  to  variation  of  saturation  or  chroma, 
e.  g.,  pure  red,  grayish  red,  pale,  washed-out  red. 
The  achromatic  system,  known  also  as  the  bright- 
ness or  light  series,  includes  all  distinguishable 
blacks  and  grays  and  whites  from  the  deepest  black 
to  the  brightest  white. 

The  normal  human  eye  is  capable  of  distinguish- 
ing about  700  qualities  of  brightness  sensation 
('shades  of  gray'  they  are  called  sometimes)  when 
they  are  arranged  in  a  single  series  running  from 
the  deepest  black  to  the  most  brilliant  white.  When 
all  possible  color-tones  or  hues,  together  with  all 
possible  variations  of  tint  and  shade  and  saturation 
are  counted,  we  have  more  than  30,000  qualities  of 
color. 

In  our  ordinary  visual  experience,  the  brightness 
series  and  the  color  series  are  so  closely  interrelated 

(82) 


CLASSES   OF   SENSATIONS  83 

that  neither  the  difference  between  them  nor  their 
relative  independence  is  noted.  The  nearest  approach 
which  Nature  furnishes  in  human  experience  to  a 
demonstration  of  the  distinction  is  given  (1)  in  the 
colorlessness  of  highly  colored  objects  in  peripheral 
vision,  i.  e.,  when  they  are  seen  'out  of  the  corner  of 
the  eye,'  with  the  outer  retinal  zone;  (2)  in  twilight 
vision,  when  the  colors  of  objects  about  us  fade  out 
and  the  objects  are  seen  as  gray;  (3)  in  cases  of 
total  color-blindness,  where  the  subject's  visual 
world  contains  no  trace  of  color,  but  consists  solely 
of  varying  degrees  of  blackness,  grayness,  and 
whiteness.  But  here  the  color  system  is  not  felt  as 
different;  it  is  simply  non-existent. 

Two  further  observations  which  support  the  "two- 
fold classification  of  visual  sensations  may  be  noted. 
One  is  that,  in  the  ascending  scale  that  marks  the 
stages  in  the  evolution  of  the  organ  of  sight,  appar- 
atus responsive  to  brightness  differences  appears 
before  that  which  is  responsive  to  color  differences. 
The  most  primitive  form  of  the  eye  is  sensitive  to 
variations  of  illumination,  but  is  insensitive  to  vari- 
ations of  color.  Thus  the  so-called  eye-specks  of  the 
jelly  fish  are  sensitive  to  the  difference  between  light 
and  dark,  black  and  white,  but  not  to  mere  color 
changes.  Further,  students  of  animal  behavior  find 
many  species  of  animals  that  have  visual  apparatus 
which  is  responsive  to  changes  within  the  brightness 
series  but  which,  apparently,  is  not  affected  by 
changes  in  the  color  series.  Obviously,  such  obser- 
vations support  the  two-fold  classification  of  visual 
sensations.  Secondly,  the  relative  independence  of 
the  two  systems  of  visual  sensations  appears  from 


84 


ELEMENTS   OF  PSYCHOLOGY 


the  fact  that,  while  every  known  color  is  interfused 
with  some  grade  of  brightness,  there  are  many  ob- 
jects which  show  no  trace  of  color;  they  are  white 
or  black  or  some  intermediate  shade  of  gray. 

The  Color  Pyramid. —  The  two  systems  of  visual 
sensations,  the  brightnesses  and  the  colors,  together 

with  their  interrelations, 
are  represented  by  the 
double  color  pyramid. 
(Fig.  22).  The  figure 
consists,  it  will  be  ob- 
served, of  two  pyramids 
whose  bases  coincide. 
The  dotted  vertical  line, 
connecting  the  two 
apexes,  represents  the 
white-gray-black  series ; 
that  is,  we  may  think  of 
all  distinguishable  grades 
of  brightness  between 
the  deepest  black  and  the 
brightest  white  as  being 
arranged  along  this  line. 

The  capitals, 

R.  Y.  G.  B.,  at  the  four 
corners  of  the  base 
stand  for  the  principal 
colors  —  red,  yellow, 
green,  and  blue ;  the  cap- 
itals, V.  P.  0.  YG.  and 
BG.  on  the  lines  connecting  the  four  corners  of  the 
base,  represent  a  few  of  the  distinguishable  inter- 
mediate  hues  —  violet,    purple,    orange,   yellowish- 


Black 


Fig.  22.  The  Color  Pyramid. 
(After  Titchener;  A  Text- 
Book  of  Psychology,   Fig-.    2.) 


CLASSES   OF  SENSATIONS  85 

green,  blue-green  —  of  which  there  are  in  all  150 
or  more.  The  lines  running  from  the  four  corners 
of  the  base  to  each  of  the  two  poles  of  the  W  B 
(white-black)  line,  represent  the  variations  of  tint 
and  shade.  Thus,  along  the  line  from  R  to  W  lie  the 
light  reds  and  pinks;  from  R  to  B,  the  dark  reds; 
from  G  to  W,  the  light  greens;  from  G  to  B,  the 
dark  greens,  and  so  on.  The  lines  running  from  the 
four  corners  and  the  four  sides  of  the  base  to  its 
center,  the  point  at  which  it  is  pierced  by  the  white- 
gray-black  line,  represent  the  varying  degrees  of 
saturation,  or  chroma.  Thus,  at  the  outer  end  of 
each  of  these  lines  we  may  imagine  a  'pure'  color, 
one  with  the  least  admixture  of  light;  as  we  ap- 
proach the  center,  the  point  of  middle  gray,  the  color 
becomes  paler,  grayish,  washed  out,  till  we  reach  the 
center,  where  it  entirely  disappears.  / 

It  was  stated  a  moment  ago  that  the  vast  multi- 
tude of  visual  sensations  arise  through  the  varia- 
tions in  hue  or  color-tone,  in  tint  or  brightness,  and 
in  saturation.  It  was  also  said  that  the  number  of 
distinguishable  hues  around  the  base  of  medium 
tint  and  maximal  saturation  is  estimated  to  be  one 
hundred  and  fifty.  It  has  been  stated,  further,  that 
the  total  number  of  visual  color  qualities  is  more 
than  30,000.  Turning  again  to  the  pyramid,  let  us 
try  to  form  an  idea  of  the  conditions  of  their  occur- 
rence. First,  let  us  think  of  the  variations  in  color 
quality  due  to  variations  in  shade  and  tint,  or 
brightness.  Begin  with  the  middle  tint  of  any  one 
of  the  principal  colors,  say  blue,  and  work  along'  the 
lines  leading  upward  to  bright  white  and  downward 
to  deep  black,  and  we  get  a  number  of  tints  of  blue 


86  ELEMENTS   OF  PSYCHOLOGY 

in  the  one  case,  and  shades  in  the  other.  The  vari- 
ations in  tint  and  shade  may  also  be  worked  out  for 
the  other  principal  colors,  red,  yellow,  and  green. 
Further,  each  one  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  imagin- 
ary lines,  which  we  may  suppose  to  pass  on  the  sur- 
face of  the  pyramid  from  W  to  B,  and  through 
points  on  the  edges  of  the  base,  representing  the 
150  intermediate  hues  referred  to  above,  may  be 
gone  over  in  the  same  way,  working  out  the  shades 
and  tints  for  each  hue.  It  is  clear  that  even  if  our 
task  ended  here  we  should  have  discovered  a  vast 
number  of  color  qualities.  But  this  is  only  a  begin- 
ning. Suppose  that  we  pare  away,  except  at  the 
two  poles,  the  outer  layer  of  the  pyramid,  which 
represents  the  colors  of  deepest  saturation,  then  we 
should  have  the  same  sort  of  a  task  as  at  first,  except 
that  in  the  latter  case  we  should  be  working  with 
color-tones  that  are  less  saturated.  By  continuing 
paring  along  the  planes  of  each  new  discernible 
difference  of  saturation  and  by  working  through  for 
each  color-tone  the  shades  and  tints  of  each  new 
plane  of  saturation,  we  shall  find  the  total  number 
of  distinguishable  color  qualities,  30,000,  more  or 
less. 

Color  Mixture.  —  If  a  beam  of  sunlight  is  passed 
through  a  glass  prism,  it  breaks  up  into  a  band  of 
colors  —  violet,  indigo,  blue,  green,  yellow,  orange, 
and  red — known  as  the  spectral  colors.  Conversely, 
if,  under  certain  conditions,  rays  of  light  corre- 
sponding to  these  various  colors  are  passed  through 
a  prism  they  produce  a  beam  of  light  like  that  which 
when  dispersed  forms  the  spectrum.     Accordingly, 


CLASSES  OF  SENSATIONS  87 

white  light  is  said  to  be  formed  by  the  union  of  all 
the  spectral  colors.  The  science  of  optics  teaches, 
further,  that  a  light  sensation  may  be  produced  by 
the  union  of  certain  colors  selected  from  the  total 
number  given  in  the  spectrum.  Thus,  under  proper 
conditions,  a  combination  of  the  four  colors,  red, 
yellow,  green  and  blue,  will  produce  the  sensation 
of  light.  Certain  other  interesting  discoveries  in 
this  field  are:  (1)  that  every  color  has  a  comple- 
mentary, which,  if  mixed  with  it  in  the  proper  pro- 
portions, produces  a  sensation  of  colorless  light  or 
brightness  (gray).  Two  colors  whose  mixture  pro- 
duces gray  are  said  to  be  'complementary'  colors. 
The  following  pairs  of  complementary  colors  may 
serve  as  examples : 

Red  and  bluish  green. 
Orange  and  greenish  blue. 
Yellow  and  blue. 
Yellowish  green  and  vidlet. 
Green  and  purple. 

(2)  The  mixture  of  two  colors  which  are  not  com- 
plementaries  produces  an  intermediate  color.  Thus 
a  mixture  (in  the  proper  proportions)  of  red  and 
yellow  gives  orange ;  of  red  and  blue,  violet. 

(3)  Newton's  law  of  color  mixture,  as  formulated 
by  Titchener,  is  as  follows: 

"If  two  colour  mixtures  arouse  the  same  sensation  of 
light  or  color,  then  a  mixture  of  these  mixtures  will  also 
arouse  that  sensation.  If,  for  instance,  the  grey  produced 
by  a  mixture  of  carmine  and  bluish  green  is  the  same  as 
that  produced  by  a  mixture  of  red  and  verdigris,  then  this 


88  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

grey  will  also  result  from  the  mixture,  in  the  original  pro- 
portions, of  all  four  colours."  ^ 

Figure  23  represents  the  colors  of  the  spectrum, 
together  with  purple  (which  is  produced  by  a  mix- 
ture of  red  and  violet)  and  their  various  relations. 
The  unshaded  sectors  represent  the  four  principal 


Mjsia-ti^g^.      "^ 


Fig.  23.  The  color  circle.  (After  Angell ;  Psychology,  Fig.  46.) 
The  colors  at  the  opposite  ends  of  any  diameter  of  the  circle, 
when  mixed,   produce  gray. 

psychological  colors ;  the  shaded  sectors  represent 
intermediate  colors. 

Visual  After-images.  —  As  a  rule,  the  effects  of  a 
sensory  stimulus  last  a  little  while  after  the  stimulus 
ceases  to  act  upon  the  sense  organ.  In  the  field  of 
our  visual   sensations,   where  this   phenomenon    is 


^Text-Book  of  Psychology,  1910,  p.  69  f. 


CLASSES   OF   SENSATIONS  89 

especially  noticeable,  the  lingering  effect  occurs  in 
one  of  two  forms,  namely,  either  as  a  positive  or  as  a 
negative  after-sensation,  or  'after-image,'  it  is  called 
by  most  psychologists.  In  the  positive  after-image, 
'the  relations  of  light  and  shade  of  the  original  ob- 
ject are  preserved,'  i.  e.,  those  parts  of  the  original 
object  which  are  light  appear  light,  and  those  which 
are  dark  appear  shaded,  in  the  after-image.  Further, 
the  positive  after-image  of  a  colored  object  is  usually 
of  the  same  color  as  the  object.  After  one's  atten- 
tion is  once  called  to  the  matter,  after-images  of 
this  kind  seem  to  be  of  pretty  frequent  occurrence, 
or,  at  any  rate,  with  a  little  care  one  may  readily 
detect  them.  Thus,  if  one  looks  at  a  bright  object, 
such  as  the  sun  or  an  electric  light  for  an  instant, 
then  closes  the  eyes,  an  after-image  of  the  sun  or 
light  persists  for  a  time,  and,  in  the  experience  of 
many  observers,  flits  about  in  space  with  the  move- 
ments of  the  eyes.  A  more  impressive  instance  of 
the  positive  after-image  may  be  obtained  by  care- 
lessly looking  from  one's  room  for  an  instant,  not 
more  than  a  second,  through  a  window,  then  closing 
and  covering  the  eyes.  Presently  there  appears  an 
image  of  the  window  —  dark  frame,  cross-pieces,  if 
any,  grayish  spaces  corresponding  to  the  window- 
glass  —  all  reduced  somewhat  in  brightness,  but  in 
the  same  relations  of  brightness  one  to  another  as 
in  the  window  itself.  A  most  interesting  feature 
of  this  experiment  is  the  looming  up  in  the  image 
of  objects  which  were  not  noted  in  the  momentary 
glance,  or  which  have  never  been  noted,  even  though 
one  may  have  looked  through  the  same  window  in 


90 


ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 


the  same  careless  way  scores  of  times.  The  things 
were  there  all  the  while,  their  images  were  im- 
pressed upon  the  retinae,  but  hitherto  we  have  not 
seen  them. 

In  the  negative  after-image  of  a  given  object  the 
relations  of  light  and  shade  are  reversed,  i.  e.,  what 
was  light  or  bright  in  the  object  becomes  dark  or 

grayish  in  the  image, 
and  what  was  dark 
or  shaded,  becomes 
bright.  Thus  if  one 
looks  steadily  at  a 
fixed  point  of  a  win- 
dow-pane for  a  period 
of  thirty  or  forty  sec- 
onds, then  at  a  white 
0  r  unfigured  wall, 
presently  an  image  of 
the  window  appears  in 
which  the  light  parts 
of  the  window  appear 
dark,  and  the  dark 
parts  light.  (At  this 
point  the  student  should  perform  the  experiment 
with  Figure  24).  Moreover,  in  the  negative  after- 
image of  a  colored  object  the  color  is  usually  the 
complementary  of  the  original.  Thus,  if  one  places 
a  small  piece  (one  inch  square)  of  colored  paper, 
say  red  or  blue,  on  a  sheet  of  white  paper,  and  looks 


Fig.  24.  (By  the  courtesy  of  Har- 
megines  &  Howell,  Printers,  Chi- 
cago.) Directions  for  experiment 
at  the  bottom   of  this   page. 


Look  steadily  at  the  star  under  the  eye  in  the  figure  above  while 
you  count  .slowly  up  to  25  or  30  ;  then  look  at  the  center  of  a  sheet 
of  white  paper  and  you  will  see,  after  a  moment  or  so,  the  face 
of  a  well  known  American. 


CLASSES   OF  SENSATIONS  91 

steadily  at  it  for  fifteen  or  twenty  seconds,  then 
looks  away  to  some  other  part  of  the  white  sheet, 
one  sees  a  patch  of  color  of  the  same  general  shape 
and  size  as  the  original,  but  strikingly  different  in 
color  —  greenish  if  the  original  was  red  and  yellow- 
ish if  the  original  was  blue.  To  repeat:  the  essen- 
tial points  to  remember  are,  (1)  that  the  general 
difference  between  positive  and  negative  after-im- 
ages is  that  in  the  former  the  relations  of  light  and 
shade  are  the  same  as  those  of  the  original  object 
and  that  the  colors  are  usually  the  same;  and  (2) 
that  in  the  negative  after-image,  the  relations  of 
light  and  shade  are  reversed,  and  the  colors  are 
usually  the  complementaries,  or  opposites,  of  those 
of  the  original  object. 

Color  Blindness.^  —  It  is  well  known  that  many 
persons  are  incapable  of  distinguishing  between  cer- 
tain colors ;  they  are  more  or  less  color-blind.  This 
defect  may  exist  in  varying  degrees  from  slight  im- 
perfection of  the  color-sense  to  total  color  blindness 
in  which  consciousness  of  colors  is  entirely  lacking 
and  the  things  of  the  external  world  are  seen  merely 
in  varying  shades  of  gray. 

Students  of  color-blindness  tell  us  that  it  is  diffi- 
cult, or  even  impossible,  to  make  a  satisfactory 
classification  of  these  phenomena,  and  for  the  reason 
that  'hardly  any  two  instances  of  color-blindness  are 
precisely  alike.'  But,  neglecting  individual  differ- 
ences,   color-blindness   may    be   classified,    first,    as 


1  The  following  paragraphs  on  Color  Blindness  are  based  on 
Howell's  discussion  of  this  topic.  See  Howell,  A  Text-Book  of 
Physiology,  1909,  p.  345  ff. 


92  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

either  total  or  partial.  Total  color-blindness,  as  has 
been  remarked  already,  is  insensitiveness  to  color, 
and  obviously,  it  has  no  subdivisions.  Partial  color 
blindness,  on  the  other  hand,  occurs  in  either  of  two 
forms  —  red-green  or  violet  blindness  —  the  former 
being  by  far  the  more  frequent.  Persons  who  are 
red-green  blind  distinguish  in  the  spectrum  only 
yellows  and  blues.  "The  red,  orange,  yellow,  and 
green  appear  as  yellow  of  different  shades,  the 
green-blue  as  gray,  and  the  blue-violet  and  purple 

as  blue When  the  spectrum  is  examined 

by  such  persons  a  neutral  gray  band  is  seen  at  the 
junction  of  blue  and  green In  red- 
blindness  the  most  characteristic  defect  is  a  failure 
to  see  or  to  appreciate  the  green.  This  color  is  con- 
fused w^ith  the  grays  and  with  dull  shades  of  red." 
The  green-blind  are  also  red-green  blind ;  they  con- 
fuse reds  and  greens,  and  in  the  spectrum  are  con- 
scious of  only  two  color  qualities  —  namely,  yellow 
and  blue.  .  .  .  "Violet  blindness,"  still  following 
Howell,  "seems  to  be  so  rare  as  a  congenital  and 
permanent  condition  that  no  very  exact  study  of  it 
has  been  made.  In  cases  of  acquired  violet  blind- 
ness resulting  from  pathological  changes  it  is  re- 
ported that  the  violet  end  of  the  spectrum  is  color- 
less and  that  a  colorless  band  appears  also  in  the 
yellow-green  region  of  the  spectrum." 

Statistics:  Inheritance. —  Investigators  differ 
as  to  the  percentage  of  color-blindness  in  our  mod- 
ern communities;  but  the  statistics  leave  no  doubt 
that  the  defect  is  far  more  prevalent  than  is  gen- 
erally known.    Perhaps  it  would  be  safe  to  say  that, 


CLASSES   OF   SENSATIONS  93 

Oil  the  average,  in  a  community  consisting  of  four 
hundred  males  and  four  hundred  females  twelve 
of  the  former  and  two  of  the  latter  will  be  found  to 
be  color-blind. 

Curiously  the  defect  may  be  inherited ;  and,  'since 
females  are  less  liable  to  be  affected  than  males,  it 
often  happens  that  the  daughters  of  a  color-blind 
person,  themselves  with  normal  vision,  have  sons 
who  inherit  their  grandfather's  infirmity."^ 

Practical  Considerations. — The  practical  impor- 
tance of  determining  whether  a  given  person's  color 
vision  is  normal  has  been  emphasized  in  recent 
years  by  the  discovery  that  accidents  by  rail  and  at 
sea  are  due  in  some  cases  to  the  inability  of  engi- 
neers and  pilots  to  distinguish  the  lights  ordinarily 
used  for  signals.  And  it  is  now  the  general  prac- 
tice of  the  managers  of  railways  and  shipping  com- 
panies to  require  tests  for  color-blindness  of  all  their 
employes  who  are  responsible  for  the  interpretation 
of  lights  used  in  signaling.  For  example,  the  writer 
knows  a  skilled  oculist  who  gives  a  large  part  of  his 
time  to  testing  for  color  vision  defects  the  employes 
of  a  great  railway  corporation.  School  officials  and 
teachers  are  also  beginning  to  realize  that  color- 
blind pupils  cannot  engage  profitably  in  certain 
school  exercises,  and  that  methods  of  teaching,  suit- 
able for  the  children  whose  vision  is  normal,  are 
unsuitable  for  those  who  are  color-blind. 

Tests  for  Color  Blindness. — Because  of  these  prac- 
tical considerations,  a  number  of  methods  of  testing 
for  color-blindness  have  been  proposed  and  used 


1  Donaldson^  American  Text-Book  of  Physiology,  vol.  II,  p.  339. 


94  ELEMENTS   OF  PSYCHOLOGY 

with  varying  success.    One  of  the  simplest  and  best 
—  the  Holmgren  —  is  thus  described  by  Howell : 

"A  number  of  skeins  of  wool  are  used  and  three  test 
colors  are  chosen, — namely,  (I)  a  pale  pure  green  skein, 
which  must  not  incline  toward  yellow  green;  (II)  a  medium 
purple  (magenta)  skein;  and  (III)  a  vivid  red  skein.  The 
person  under  investigation  is  given  skein  I  and  is  asked  to 
select  from  the  pile  of  assorted  colored  skeins  those  that 
have  a  similar  color  value.  He  is  not  to  make  an  exact 
match,  but  to  select  those  that  appear  to  have  the  same 
color.  Those  who  are  red  or  green  blind  will  see  the  test 
skein  as  a  gray  with  some  yellow  or  blue  shade  and  will 
select,  therefore,  not  only  the  green  skeins,  but  the  grays  or 
grayish  yellow  and  blue  skeins.  To  ascertain  whether  the 
individual  is  red  or  green  blind  tests  II  and  III  may  then  be 
employed. 

"With  test  II,  medium  purple,  the  red  blind  will  select, 
in  addition  to  other  purples,  only  blues  or  violets;  the  green 
blind  will  select  as  'confusion  colors'  only  greens  and  grays. 

"With  test  III,  red,  the  red  blind  will  select  as  confusion 
colors  greens,  grays,  or  browns  less  luminous  than  the  test 
color,  while  the  green  blind  will  select  greens,  grays,  or 
browns  of  a  greater  brightness  than  the  test." 

The  Color  Zones  of  the  Retina.  —  Besides  the  two 
forms  of  abnormal  color-blindness  described  in  the 
preceding  paragraphs,  there  are  also  certain  forms 
which  are  normal,  i.  e.,  are  phenomena  of  the  activ- 
ity of  the  normal  eye.  Thus  if  we  think  of  the 
retina  as  being  divided  into  three  zones,  we  may  then 
say  that  the  outermost  zone  is  defective  in  its  reac- 
tions to  all  color  impressions — objects  seen  with  this 
part  of  the  retina  ordinarily  appear  as  light  or  dark 
patches  —  that  the  middle  or  intermediate  zone  is 


1  Howell,  A   Text-Book  of  Physiology^  1909,  347   f. 


CLASSES   OF   SENSATIONS 


95 


blind  to  all  colors  except  blues  and  yellows ;  and  that 
the  central  zone  or  area  alone  furnishes  all  color 
qualities.     (See  Fig.  25).    It  should  be  remembered 

that  the  failure  of  a 
given  object  to  arouse 
a  color  sensation  does 
not  mean  necessarily 
that  the  object  is  not 
seen  at  all.  We  are 
all  the  while  aware 
through  sight  of  the 
presence  of  innumer- 
able objects  lying  in 
the  outskirts  of  the 
field  of  vision,  of 
whose  colors,  at  the 
moment,  w^e  know 
nothing.  They  are 
seen  as  light  or  dark 
or  grey  objects,  and 
we  can  tell  nothing 
definite  about  their 
colors  without  looking 
directly  at  them.  This 
may  be  shown  roughly 
by  the  following  simple  experiment: 

As  you  sit  at  your  study-table,  stand  a  blue-covered  book 
at  the  left  end  of  the  table-top,  then  place  to  the  right  of 
the  blue-book,  at  a  distance  of  tv/enty  inches,  a  green-cov- 
ered one;  then  look  steadily  at  the  center  of  the  cover  of 
the  blue  book  and  observe  that  you  cannot  tell  the  color  of 
the  book  on  the  right.  Of  course  you  knoiv  that  it  is  green, 
but  you  see  it  merely  as  a  patch  of  dark,  not  as  a  green  as 


Fig.  25.  Diagram  representing  the 
fields  of  vision  for  gray  (G), 
blue,  yellow  (BY),  red  and  green 
(RG),  of  right  eye.  Correspond- 
ing to  these  fields  are  the  three 
retinal  zones:  (1)  the  central 
zone  which  is  sensitive  to  all  col- 
ors and  brightnesses;  (2)  the  in- 
termediate zone  in  which  only 
blues,  yellows,  and  brightnesses 
can  be  seen;  (3)  the  outermost 
zone  over  which  all  colored  ob- 
jects look  gray. 


96  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

you  do  when  you  look  directly  at  it.  "Again,"  to  quote  Sea- 
shore, "if  we  look  steadily  at  one  flower  in  a  flower-bed  and 
attempt,  without  movement  of  the  eyes,  to  see  the  coloration 
of  the  whole  bed,  we  observe  that,  outside  of  a  certain 
narrow  limit,  the  leaves  do  not  look  green;  beyond  a  some- 
what larger  limit,  no  flowers  are  seen  red,  although  the 
blue  and  yellow  ones  look  brilliant;  and  in  the  outermost 
parts  of  the  bed  all  flowers  and  leaves  look  gray."  ^ 

By  way  of  caution,  it  should  be  said  that  the  color 
zones  of  the  retina,  and  the  corresponding  'color 
fields',  as  they  are  called,  vary  greatly  from  individ- 
ual to  individual,  and  also  with  differences  in  the 
nature  of  the  objects  seen.  Thus  in  regard  to  the 
individual  differences,  it  is  said  that  the  distribution 
of  the  color  elements  in  no  two  retinas  is  precisely 
the  same ;  and  Howell  suggests-  that  since  the  color- 
fields  of  no  two  persons  are  precisely  alike,  it  is 
possible  that  a  test  of  the  color-fields  might  be  used 
for  the  identification  of  individuals,  in  the  same  way 
that  'thumb-prints'  are  now  used  for  this  purpose. 
In  regard  to  the  second  ground  of  variation  of  the 
color  fields  it  may  be  remarked  in  general  that  the 
larger,  the  brighter,  the  more  saturated  are  the 
colors  seen,  the  larger  will  be  the  color  fields. 

The  interesting  theory  has  been  advanced  that  the 
existence  of  three  retinal  zones  indicates  that  there 
have  been  three  stages,  or  epochs,  in  the  evolution 
of  the  organ  of  vision.  During  the  first  epoch  an 
eye  was  developed  which  was  sensitive  only  to  dif- 
ferences of  brightness ;  during  a  second  epoch,  cen- 


''■  Elementary  Experiments  in  Psychology,  1908,  27  f. 
'^  Text-Book  of  Physiology^  p.  348. 


CLASSES   OF   SENSATIONS  97 

tral  elements  of  the  retina  became  sensitive  to  yel- 
lows and  blues,  and  gradually  spread,  during  evo- 
lutionary ages,  from  the  central  region  toward  the 
periphery  of  the  retina.  During  a  third  epoch, 
according  to  the  theory,  sensitiveness  to  reds  and 
greens  was  developed  in  the  central  portion  of  the 
retina.  Thus  there  have  been  developed  the  three 
color  zones  as  they  exist  at  present  in  the  normal 
human  eye.  Some  writers  indulge  in  the  curious 
speculation  that  in  some  future  age  all  parts  of  the 
retina,  excepting  the  blind  spot,  will  be  sensitive  to 
all  color  impressions,  and  that  the  appearance  of  an 
eye  possessing  color  zones,  such  as  have  been  de- 
scribed above,  will  then  be  regarded  as  an  atavistic 
phenomenon,  reminiscent  of  the  long  past  age  to 
which  we  now  belong. 

AUDITORY   SENSATIONS. 

Nature  of  the  Stimulus. —  Sensations  of  sound  are 
caused  ordinarily  by  vibrations  of  the  air.  These 
air  waves,  or  sound-waves,  as  they  are  also  called, 
differ  in  respect  to  (1)  wave-length  or  rapidity  of 
vibration;  (2)  wave-amplitude,  and  (3)  wave-form 
or  composition.  When  the  wave-length  is  small, 
when  the  distance  from  crest  to  crest  is  short,  the 
vibration  rate  is  rapid,  and  the  number  of  waves 
in  the  one  second  is  high.  Conversely,  increasing 
the  distance  from  wave-crest  to  wave-crest  lowers 
the  rate  of  vibration,  and  so  the  number  of  waves 
in  the  one  second.  Difference  in  rate  of  vibration, 
or  wave-number,  is  represented  in  Fig.  26  A.     The 


98 


ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 


rate  of  vibration  represented  by  the  dotted  line  is 
twice  that  represented  by  the  unbroken  line. 

Wave-amplitude  refers  to  the  extent  of  the  wave 
oscillation  above  and  below  an  imaginary  horizontal 
line.  In  Fig.  26  B  the  waves  are  the  same  in  rate, 
but  different  in  amplitude. 


A^ 


Air-waves  may  be  simple  and  regular  like  those 
represented  in  Figs.  A  and  B,  or  they  may  be  com- 
plex, made  up  of  two  or  more  simple  waves  as  shown 
in  Fig.  26  C.  The  large,  complex  waves  may  be  con- 
ceived of  as  composed  of  a  number  of  smaller  ones. 
Complex  waves  are  often  likened  to  the  waves  which 
pass  along  a  rope  when  it  is  jerked  up  and  down  by 


CLASSES   OF   SENSATIONS  99 

a  trembling  hand.  The  smaller  waves  caused  by 
the  trembling  enter  into  the  larger  movement  and 
change  it  from  a  smooth  to  a  wavy  line. 

Classes  of  Auditory  Sensations.  —  There  are  two 
great  classes  of  auditory  sensations  —  tones  and 
noises.  Thej^  differ,  according  to  Titchener,  chiefly 
in  the  fact  that  tones  "have  a  certain  clarity  and 
stability,"  whereas  "noises  .  .  .  are  dull  and 
instable ;  if  momentary,  they  are  abrupt  and  harsh, 
if  continued,  they  are  rough  and  turbid."  Sensa- 
tions of  tone  may  be  experienced  without  accom- 
panying noise;  "but  it  is  difficult  to  decide,"  says 
Titchener,  "whether  sensations  of  noise  occur  with- 
out accompanying  tones." 

Noises  are  distinguished  by  Titchener  as  "explo- 
sive" and  "continuative."  "For  the  former  we  have 
such  words  as  crack,  pop,  snap ;  for  the  latter  such 
words  as  hiss,  sputter,  rumble." 

Attributes  of  Tones.  —  Tone  sensations  show  five 
attributes:  quality  (pitch),  volume,  intensity,  clear- 
ness and  duration.  Pitch  refers  to  the  position  of  a 
tone  on  a  scale  rising  from  the  lowest,  deepest  tones 
to  the  highest  ones.  The  pitch  of  a  tone  is  deter- 
mined by  the  length  of  the  air-waves  or  the  vibra- 
tion rate  of  the  sounding  body  which  causes  it. 
Short  waves  (high  vibration  rate,  large  wave-num- 
ber) ,  correspond  to  tones  of  high  pitch ;  long  waves 
(low  vibration  rate,  small  wave-number) ,  corre- 
spond to  tones  of  low  pitch. 

Authors  differ  somewhat  as  to  the  range  of  audible  tones, 
i.  e.,  the  lowest  and  highest  vibration  rates  which  produce 
tones  that  can  be  heard.     Titchener  places  twelve  vibrations 


100  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

as  the  lowest  and  fifty  thousand  as  the  highest.  In  other 
words,  exceptional  ears  can  hear  the  extremely  low  tones 
produced  by  twelve  vibrations  per  second,  and  the  extremely 
high  tones  produced  by  fifty  thousand  vibrations  per  second. 
The  same  author  teaches  that,  'between  these  extremes  the 
trained  ear  can  distinguish  some  eleven  thousand  different 
tones',  and  that  the  tones  of  the  musical  scale  range  between 
'the  limits  of  about  forty  and  four  thousand  vibrations  in 
the  one  second'. 

In  the  second  place,  tones  differ  in  respect  to  size 
or  volume.  Some  tones,  like  those  of  a,  great  pipe- 
organ,  are  large,  massive,  space-filling;  others,  e.  g., 
the  peep  of  a  newly  hatched  chick,  or  a  high  note 
of  the  violin,  are  small,  sharp,  pointed.  Generally 
speaking,  the  deep  tones  seem  voluminous,  and  very 
easily  lead  us  to  think  of  a  wide-spread  commotion, 
the  tone-shocking  of  a  large  air-space,  whereas  the 
high  tones  seem  small  and  concentrated,  and  we 
think  they  might  easily  be  confined  within  small 
limits.  It  may  be  remarked  that  in  the  writer's 
experience  the  high  tones  seem  more  like  fine  lines 
shooting  through  space,  than  a  commotion  in  a 
merely  small,  relatively  stationary,  spatial  area. 

Thirdly,  tones  differ  in  intensity,  depending  upon 
differences  in  the  amplitude  of  the  sound  waves 
which  cause  them.  Of  two  tones  of  the  same  pitch 
one  may  be  weak  or  faint,  the  other,  strong  or  loud. 

Fourth,  tones  appear,  in  the  conscious  field,  as 
either  focal  or  marginal,  or  at  some  intermediate 
point. 

Lastly,  and  obviously,  a  tone  must  have  a  certain 
duration,  it  must  last  a  longer  or  shorter  period  of 
time. 


CLASSES   OF   SENSATIONS  101 

Classes  of  Tones.  —  Besides  the  simple,  or  pure 
tones  such  as  are  produced  from  tuning-forks 
mounted  on  properly  tuned  resonators,  text-books 
of  psychology  usually  describe  a  number  of  tonal 
experiences  which  are  dependent  upon  the  various 
relations  in  which  tonal  sensations  occur.  Thus 
there  are  compound  tones,  difference  tones,  conso- 
nant and  dissonant  tones,  and  so  on.  The  conditions 
of  the  occurrence  of  each  of  these  classes  mentioned 
will  be  described  briefly. 

Compound  Tones :  Timbre.  —  The  sound  waves 
which  arouse  sensations  of  tone  are  usually  complex 
in  the  sense  described  above,  (p.  98f )  and  the  result- 
ing tone  is  compound  in  that  it  is  possible,  after 
practice,  to  resolve  it  into  a  number  of  partial  tones, 
the  lowest  of  which  is  termed  the  fundamental,  and 
the  rest  the  upper  partials,  or  over-tones.  The 
fundamental  tone  depends  upon  the  larger  wave- 
movement  of  the  sounding  body,  e.  g.,  a  piano  wire 
or  violin  string;  the  partial  tones  depend  upon  the 
quivering  movement  which  forms  a  part  of  the 
larger  wave  movement.  The  pitch  of  a  compound 
tone  is  approximately  that  of  its  fundamental. 

Timbre.  —  The  overtones  of  notes  of  the  same 
pitch,  sounded  on  different  musical  instruments,  e. 
g.,  a  piano,  a  flute,  an  organ,  differ  in  respect  to 
their  number  and  relative  intensity.  These  differ- 
ences give  rise  to  differences  of  'timbre.' 

"Most  of  us",  says  Titchener,  "lack  the  training,  and  some 
lack  the  ability,  to  resolve  a  compound  tone  into  its  simple 
components.     Under  these  circumstances,  the  tone  itself  is 


102  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

heard    as    simple,   but   has   upon    it   a    certain    colouring   or 
timbre,  which  varies  with  the  various  instruments." 

Harmonic  Intervals :  Beats.  —  Two  tones  of  the 
same  pitch,  heard  at  the  same  time,  fuse  into  a  sin- 
gle tone  of  the  same  pitch,  but  of  greater  intensity. 
Two  simultaneous  tones,  one  of  which  depends  upon 
a  vibration  rate  exactly  twice  that  of  the  other,  the 
octave  of  the  musical  scale,  tend  to  blend  into  a  sin- 
gle tone.  Tones  which  thus  blend  are  said  to  be  con- 
sonant or  harmonious.  Other  ratios  of  vibration 
rate  which  produce  consonant  tones  are :  3 :  2,  4 :  3, 
5 :  3,  or  the  fifth,  fourth,  the  major  sixth,  and  so  on, 
in  other  words,  the  musical  'intervals  of  the  musical 
scale. 

If  the  pitch-number  of  one  of  two  simultaneously 
sounding  tones  is  slightly  higher  than  that  of  the 
other,  the  resulting  sensation  'shows  rhythmical 
fluctuations  of  intensity' ;  'the  sound  is  heard  now  to 
grow  louder  and  then  to  grow  fainter  or  even  to 
die  away,  but  soon  to  revive  again,  and  once  more 
to  fall  away,  thus  rising  and  falling  at  regular 
intervals,  the  rhythmic  change  being  either  from 
sound  to  actual  silence  or  from  a  louder  sound  to  a 
f-tinter  one."  These  rhythmical  fluctuations  of  in- 
tensity are  known  as  beats. 

Difference  Tones — Under  certain  conditions  two  simul- 
taneous tones  are  accompanied  by  other  tones  'for  which', 
says  Stout,  'there  is  no  assignable  physical  stimulus'.  'If, 
quoting  Titchener,  'we  term  the  upper  generating  tone  u, 
and  the  lower  I,  we  hear,  in  general,  a  third  tone  whose 
pitch-number  is  u-l.  This  is  known  as  the  first  difference 
tone  Di.  Under  favorable  circumstances,  a  single  pair  of 
tones  will   give   rise   to   no   less  than   five   difference   tones. 


CLASSES   OF   SENSATIONS  103 

whose  pitch-numbers  correspond  to  the  successive  differences 
between  the  pitch-numbers  of  the  lowest  tones  present  in 
the  complex.  Thus,  let  m  be  a  tone  of  1328  and  I  a  tone  of 
1024  vs.    (c').     Then  we  have 

Di  =  u  —     1  =  304 

D2  =  1  —  D,  =  2  1  —  u  =  720 
Ds  =  D=  —  Di  -  3  1  —  2u  =  416 
D4  =  Ds  —  D,  =  4  1  —  3u  =  112 
D,  =  Di  —  D4  =  4u  —  5  1  =  192 

all  of  which  may  be  rendered  audible  to  the  practised  ear." 

SENSATIONS  OF  SMELL 

The  Organ  of  Smell. —  We  have  seen  on  a  preced- 
ing page  (62)  that  the  fibrils  of  the  olfactory  nerve 
terminate  in  the  olfactory  cells,  the  end-organs  for 
the  sense  of  smell.  The  organ  of  smell  may  be 
further  described  as  a  small  patch  of  brownish- 
yellow  mucous  membrane  in'  the  extreme  upper  part 
of  the  nasal  cavity.  This  patch,  called  the  olfactory 
surface,  contains  two  kinds  of  cells :  the  olfactory 
cells  proper,  set  amongst  the  larger,  supporting 
epithelial  cells.  The  olfactory  cells  are  described 
as  spindle-shaped  and  as  terminating  at  the  external 
surface  of  the  olfactory  region  in  hair-like  processes, 
or  cilia.     (Fig.  18,  p.  62.) 

The  Olfactory  Stimulus.^ —  In  order  to  act  upon  the 
organ  of  smell,  a  substance  must  exist  in  the  form 
of  gas  or  vapor.  Even  substances  like  cologne  and 
ammonia,  which,  in  the  vaporous  form,  give  strong 
odors,  are  inodorous  in  the  fluid  form;  and  arsenic. 


1  Text-Book  of  Psychology^  p.   106  f. 


104  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

which  is  usually  thought  to  be  odorless,  is  intensely 
odorous  when  it  is  vaporized  by  heating.  Needless 
to  say,  olfactory  stimuli  ordinarily  reach  the  olfac- 
tory region  in  the  act  of  inspiration.  If  we  wish  to 
examine  carefully  the  quality  of  a  given  odor,  or  to 
get  more  pleasure  from  an  agreeable  one,  we  deflect 
the  incoming  air  currents  upwards  by  sniffing. 

Relations  of  Sensations  of  Smell  to  Other  Sensa- 
tions. —  Many  olfactory  stimuli  are  peculiar  in  that 
they  usually  arouse,  besides  characteristic  smells, 
other  sensations  which  are  ordinarily  confused  with 
the  former.  Thus  the  sweet  taste  of  inhaled  chlo- 
roform, the  pungency  of  pepper,  the  pain  from  a 
sniff  of  ammonia,  the  nausea  caused  by  decaying 
animal  matter,  are  not  easily  distinguished  from 
the  accompanying  odors.  So  we  have  the  common 
expressions,  'sweet  smell,'  'pungent,'  'painful,'  'nau- 
seous odors,'  meaning,  in  strictness,  the  sweetness, 
pungency,  and  so  on  of  the  sensations  which  accom- 
pany the  odors. 

Classification  of  Sensations  of  Smell. — The  classifi- 
cation of  the  sensations  of  smell  given  below  is  the 
one  first  proposed  by  the  naturalist,  Linnaeus,  and 
afterwards  modified  by  Zwaardemaker  and  Titch- 
ener.^ 

1.  Ethereal  or  Fruit  Odours.  —  All  fruit  and  wine 
odours;  the  scents  of  the  various  ethers;  the  smell  of  bees- 
wax. 

2.  Aromatic  or  Spice  Odours.  —  All  spicy  smells :  cam- 
phor, turpentine,  cloves,  ginger,  pepper,  bay  leaves,  cinna- 


1  Text-Book  of  Psychology,  p.  117  f. 


CLASSES   OF   SENSATIONS  105 

mon,  caraway,  anise,  peppei'mint,  lavender,  bitter  almonds, 
rosemary,  sassafras;  thyme,  geranium,  bergamot;  rosewood, 
cedarwood,  etc. 

3.  Fragrant  or  Flower  Odours.  —  All  flower  scents;  va- 
nilla, tonka  b^an,  tea,  hay;  gum  benzoin,  etc. 

4.  Ambrosiac  or  Musky  Odours.  —  Musk,  ambergris, 
sandalwood,  patchouli. 

5.  Alliaceous  or  Leek  Odours.  —  Onion,  garlic,  asa- 
foetida;  india-rubber,  dried  fish,  chlorine,  iodine. 

6.  Empyreumatic  or  Burned  Odours.  —  Roasted  coffee, 
toast,  tobacco  smoke,  tar,  burned  horn,  carbolic  acid,  naph- 
thalene, benzine,  creosote. 

7.  Hircine  or  Rank  Odours.  —  Stale  cheese,  valerian, 
root  and  stem  of  barberry  and  black  currant,  lactic  acid. 

8.  Virulent  and  Foul  Odours.  —  Opium,  laudinum,  French 
marigold,  fresh  coriander  seeds,  squash  bugs. 

9.  Nauseous  Odours.  —  Carrion  flowers,  water  from 
wilted  flower  stems,  decaying  animal  matter. 

This  classification  is  confessedly  unsatisfactory 
and  provisional, 

"It  is  unsatisfactory,"  says  Titchener,  "first,  because 
there  are  many  odours  that  cannot  certainly  be  classed 
under  any  one  of  the  nine  headings;  and,  secondly,  because 
the  odours  under  certain  headings  (1  and  3,  or  2  and  4) 
seem  to  be  more  nearly  related  than  are  particular  odours 
under  a  single  heading  (2  or  6).  Nevertheless  it  serves  to 
give  an  idea  of  the  immense  range  and  variety  of  the  olfac- 
tory qualities." 

SENSATIONS  OF  TASTE 

Organs  of  Taste.  —  For  a  brief  description  of  the 
organs  of  taste,  see  above  page  61  and  Fig.  17. 

In  reference  to  the  distribution  of  the  taste-bulbs, 
Ladd  remarks  that,  "there  is  scarcely  a  spot  from 


106  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

the  lips  to  the  stomach  which  some  physiologist  has 
not  described  as  belonging  to  the  organ  of  taste;" 
and  while  not  all  of  these  individual  accounts  have 
been  corroborated,  it  is  now  generally  agreed  that 
the  taste-bulbs  are  more  widely  distributed  than 
merely  on  the  surface  of  the  tongue,  as  is  popularly 
supposed.  Besides  occurring  at  the  root  of  the 
tongue,  where  they  are  most  numerous,  and  along 
its  edges  and  at  the  top,  taste-bulbs  are  found  in 
certain  other  parts  of  the  mouth  and  throat,  e.  g., 
on  the  soft  palate,  on  the  epiglottis,  in  the  interior 
of  the  larnyx,  and,  in  children,  in  the  mucous  mem- 
brane of  the  cheeks.  Curiously,  in  adult  life,  a  cen- 
tral area  of  varying  size,  on  the  upper  surface  of  the 
tongue,  is  insensitive  to  taste  stimuli. 

Classes  and  Relations  of  Taste  Sensations. —  There 
are  four  elementary  kinds  of  tastes:  sour,  sweet, 
salt,  bitter.  Every  taste  experience  belongs  to  one 
of  these  classes,  or  is  a  compound  of  these  elemen- 
tary qualities.  Our  gustatory  experience,  however, 
seems  to  possess  far  greater  variety  and  complexity 
than  could  possibly  be  obtained  by  the  blending  in 
every  conceivable  way  of  these  four  elementary 
tastes;  and  observation  of  the  matter  shows  that 
what  we  commonly  call  tastes  are,  in  fact,  com- 
pounds of  taste  with  other  sensory  qualities,  chiefly 
odors,  warmth,  cold,  and  touch  (pressure).  Take, 
for  instance,  the  so-called  taste  of  coffee,  which  is 
composed,  in  fact,  of  a  certain  bitter  taste,  a  charac- 
teristic odor,  a  sensation  of  cold  or  warmth,  sensa- 
tions of  pressure  and  wetness,  and,  if  one  is  unaccus- 
tomed to  the  beverage,  an  unpleasant  puckery  sen- 


CLASSES   OF   SENSATIONS  107 

sation.  So  of  most  of  the  'tastes' ;  they  are  com- 
pounds of  tastes  with  other  sensations ;  and,  as  has 
been  remarked  in  the  section  on  Smell,  many  so- 
called  tastes  are  really  chiefly  smells.  This  is  true 
of  the  'taste'  of  most  meats  and  vegetables. 

Illustrative  of  the  results  which  are  often  obtained 
by  mixing  taste  and  smell  stimuli,  Titchener  cites 
the  pharmacist's  directions 

"to  take  castor  oil  or  cod-liver  oil  in  claret  or  lemonade;  the 
sour  taste  corrects  the  nauseating  or  hircine  odour.  Qui- 
nine, which  tastes  bitter  and  has  no  smell,  is  corrected  by- 
essence  of  orange  peel,  which  has  an  aromatic  smell  and  no 
taste.  In  all  sorts  of  children's  medicines,  a  disagreeable 
odour  is  offset  by  a  sweet  taste,  or  a  disagreeable  taste  by 
some  pleasant  odour." 

"The  observations  of  every-day  life,"  says  Titch- 
ener, "which  seem  to  show  that  certain  tastes,  e.  g., 
sour  and  sweet,  are  antagonistic,  and  that  certain 
others,  e.  g.,  bitter  and  salt,  may  exist  side  by  side," 
are,  for  certain  reasons,  specified  in  his  Text-Book, 
untrustworthy.^ 

CUTANEOUS   SENSATIONS 

The  skin  contains  four  distinct  kinds  of  sense- 
organs:  those,  namely,  of  pressure  (contact), 
warmth,  cold,  and  pain.  Accordingly,  what  in 
everyday  speech  is  spoken  of  as  the  'sense  of  touch' 
really  includes  at  least  four  kinds  of  sense-expe- 
rience. Indeed,  these  distinctions  are  found  in  such 
expressions  as,  'the  stove  is  warm',  'the  ice  is  cold. 


lA   Text-Book  of  Psychology,  §   36. 


108  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

to  touch,'  'their  touch  affrights  me  as  a  serpent's 
sting,'  'the  lightest  touch  of  thistles  is  painful' ;  but 
instead  of  referring  each  of  these  experiences  to  a 
separate  sense-organ,  they  are  thought  popularly  to 
be  due  to  different  ways  in  which  the  same  organ, 
the  skin  surface,  is  affected.  We  shall  consider 
briefly  the  cutaneous  senses  in  the  order  just  given. 

Sensations  of  Pressure.  —  The  end-organs  of  pres- 
sure are  distributed  over  practically  the  whole  ex- 
tent of  the  skin.  In  those  regions  where  hairs  are 
found — that  is,  on  nearly  every  part  of  the  skin  sur- 
face— hair  bulbs  are  the  organs  of  pressure ;  on  the 
hairless  regions,  for  instance  on  the  palms  of  the 
hands  and  soles  of  the  feet,  the  pressure  organs  are 
the  corpuscles  of  Meissner,  referred  to  above,  p.  59. 
The  'pressure  spots',  as  they  are  called,  may  be 
found  by  working  over  a  given  portion  of  skin  sur- 
face with  a  finely  pointed  tooth-pick,  or  better,  a 
horse-hair  point  which  is  made  by  attaching  a  bit 
of  hair  from  the  mane  or  tail  of  a  horse  to  the  end 
of  a  small  stick,  such  as  a  match.  When  the  pres- 
sure spots  are  touched  lightly,  one  gets  a  sensation 
of  mere  contact,  of  'something  there';  if  the  pres- 
sure is  increased  the  sensation  presently  becomes 
granular;  'it  is',  says  Tichener,  'as  if  you  were 
pressing  upon  a  small  hard  seed  imbedded  in  the 
substance  of  the  skin'. 

The  distribution  of  the  pressure  spots  differs  in 
different  parts  of  the  skin  surface.  The  number, 
per  square  centimeter,  is  said  to  vary  from  8  or  9 
on  the  upper  arm  to  300  on  the  scalp. 


CLASSES   OF   SENSATIONS  109 

Sensations  of  Temperature:  the  Cold  and  Warm 
Spots. —  Draw  the  point  of  a  lead  pencil  lightly  over 
the  inner  surface  of  the  fore-arm  and  note  that  you 
get  alternating  sensations  of  pressure  and  flashes 
of  cold.  The  flashes  of  cold  seem,  for  the  moment, 
to  obscure  the  sensation  of  pressure,  then  pass  away 
and  one  feels  only  the  contact;  or,  if  the  pressure 
is  very  light,  some  of  the  areas  yield  no  sensation 
whatever. 

The  warm  spots  may  be  found  by  slowly  drawing 
the  point  of  a  nail  (heated  in  hot,  but  not  boiling 
water)  over  the  wrist  or  the  back  of  the  hand.  The 
warm  spots  are  more  difficult  to  find  than  the  cold, 
'partly  because  the  warmed  point  quickly  cools  and 
partly  because  the  sensations  themselves  are  duller 
and  less  insistent  than  those  of  cold,'  they  do  not 
force  themselves  to  the  focus  of  consciousness  as  do 
the  flashes  of  cold  of  the  preceding  experiment. 

The  end-organs  of  temperature,  like  those  of  pres- 
sure, are  found  over  the  whole  extent  of  the  skin. 
Their  distribution  differs  in  different  regions  of  the 
skin  area;  but  there  are,  according  to  Titchener. 
about  thirteen  cold  spots  and  two  warm  spots  to  the 
square  centimeter. 

Two  results  of  the  experimental  study  of  the  tempera- 
ture senses  are  curious  enoujjh  to  warrant  special  mention. 
One  is  that  if  we  touch  a  cold  spot  with  a  nail  warmed  to 
45°  C.  (113°  F.)  no  sensation  results;  but  if  the  nail  is 
warmer  than  45°  C,  we  get  a  sensation  not  of  warmth,  as 
one  might  expect,  but  of  cold.  No  satisfactory  explanation 
has  been  given  of  this  'paradoxical  sensation  of  cold'  as  it 
is   called.      'Paradoxical    sensations   of   warmth, — sensations 


110  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

aroused  at  the  warm  spots  by  a  very  cold  stimulus, — havtj 
never  been  observed  in  the  normal  subject.'  The  second  is 
that  heat  or  hotness  is  not,  as  is  generally  supposed,  a  high 
degree  of  warmth,  but  is  a  third  kind  of  temperature  exper- 
ience, and  results  from  the  simultaneous  stimulation  of  cold 
and  warmth  nerves  by  a  stimulus  above  45°  C.  The  sensa- 
tion of  heat  which  is  seemingly  a  simple  and  unanalysable 
experience  may  be  analysed,  under  proper  conditions,  into 
the  two  component  sensations — warmth  and  cold. 

Sensation  of  Pain.  —  The  sensation  of  pain,  the 
disagreeableness  or  hurt  which  is  caused  by  the  in- 
tensive stimulation  of  a  pain  spot,  must  be  care- 
fully distinguished  from  the  'feeling'  of  pain,  or  un- 
pleasantness. "Pain  sensations  are,'  as  Seashore 
remarks,  'nearly  always  unpleasant,  but  not  all  un- 
pleasant experiences  are  painful.  (Thus)  it  is 
exceedingly  unpleasant  to  overturn  one's  cup  of 
coffee  at  dinner,  but  it  is  not  necessarily  painful 
unless  one  happens  to  be  scalded  by  the  liquid." 
We  must  also  distinguish  the  cutaneous  sensations 
of  pain,  with  which  we  are  now  concerned,  from  the 
pains  which  are  derived  from  the  tissues  lying  be- 
neath the  skin  and  which  are  usually  referred  to 
some  definite  internal  organ,  e.  g.,  the  stomach,  or 
heart,  or  a  nerve,  as  their  seat. 

Pains  as  sensations  differ  in  respect  to  (1)  inten- 
sity —  they  may  vary  from  faint  to  the  extremely 
intense;  (2)  duration  —  they  may  be  momentary  or 
prolonged,  continuous  or  periodic;  (3)  extensity  — 
they  may  be  fine,  sharp,  cutting  or  spread  out  and 
dull.  These  variations  in  intensity,  duration,  and 
extensity,  together  with  the  combinations  resulting 
from  the  blending  of  pain  sensations  with  the  sen- 


CLASSES   OF   SENSATIONS  111 

sations  of  temperature  and  pressure,  account  for 
the  vast  variety  of  pains  described  in  common 
speech  as  stinging,  cutting,  burning,  scratching, 
smarting,  chafing  pains,  or  as  being  dull  or  sharp, 
fine  or  massive.  For  instance,  a  stinging  pain, 
according  to  Calkins,  "is  a  complex  experience  of 
painfulness,  of  warmth  and  of  a  small  extent  of 
pressure;"  a  burning  pain  is  composed  of  high  de- 
grees of  both  pain  and  heat;  a  cutting  pain  is  a 
complex  of  painfulness  and  successive  pressure  sen- 
sations. 

Besides  the  four  kinds  of  cutaneous  sensations 
already  described,  the  skin  seems  to  yield  a  number 
of  seemingly  elementary  sensory  experiences  which 
are  not  included  in  the  foregoing  list.  For  instance, 
hardness,  softness,  roughness,  smoothness,  wetness, 
dryness,  clamminess,  oiliness,  are  popularly  thought 
to  be  elementary  touch  experiences.  They  are, 
however,  complexes  due  to.  fusions  and  variations 
among  the  cutaneous  sensations,  and  to  the  blending 
of  these  latter  with  other  sensations.  They  are  de- 
scribed by  Titchener  as  'touch-blends',  and  will  be 
referred  to  later  (p.  113)  under  that  heading. 

THE   KINAESTHETIC  SENSES. 

The  organs  of  the  kinaesthetic  senses  are  found 
in  the  muscles,  tendons,  joints,  and  in  the  semi-cir- 
cular canals  and  vestibule  of  the  internal  ear.  The 
corresponding  kinaesthetic  sensations  are  known  as 
the  musclar,  tendinous,  articular  sensations,  sensa- 
tions of  swimming  or  dizziness,  and  of  lightness  or 
pressure  in  the  head. 


112  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

Under  a  pressure  stimulus  of  varying  intensity 
the  muscles  yield  sensations  which  Titchener  de- 
scribes as  being,  first,  dull,  diffuse,  then  dragging, 
sore,  tired,  achy.  In  general,  the  muscular  sensa- 
tions resemble  sensations  of  pressure. 

The  tendinous  sensations  —  which  form  the  body 
of  most  of  the  ordinary  sensations  of  strain,  effort, 
exertion — originate  chiefly  in  end-organs,  called  the 
spindles  of  Golgi,  found  in  the  tendons.  (See  Fig. 
16  F,  p.  58). 

The  articular  sensations,  as  the  name  indicates, 
originate  in  the  stimulation  —  ordinarily  by  move- 
ment at  the  joints  —  of  sense-organs,  distributed  in 
the  articular  ligaments  and  in  the  synovial  mem- 
branes lining  the  joints.  These  sensations  are  es- 
sential apparently  to  our  perceptions  of  position  and 
movement.  For  example,  our  knowledge  of  the 
position  of  an  arm,  or  of  a  movement  which  it 
makes,  is  based,  in  part,  upon  the  articular  sensa- 
tions connected  therewith.  Moreover,  our  percep- 
tions of  weight,  as  when  we  lift  a  heavy  piece  of 
furniture,  and  of  resistance,  as  when  we  press  with 
the  hand  against  a  swollen  door,  are  both  based 
upon  the  sensations  originating  in  the  articular  sur- 
faces. In  lifting  a  heavy  weight,  the  muscles  in- 
volved jam  the  articular  surfaces  together  and  the 
sensation  thus  aroused  is  the  essential  feature  of 
the  experience.  Again,  it  is  easy  to  believe  that  the 
sensations  which  come  from  the  articular  surfaces 
form  an  essential  feature  in  the  perception  of  re- 
sistance, especially  when  one  pushes  against  a  resist- 
ing object  with  hand  or  foot. 


CLASSES   OF   SENSATIONS  113 

The  essential  organs  of  the  sensations  of  dizziness 
are  three  groups  of  hair-cells,  containing  nerve 
fibres,  situated  on  the  inner  walls  of  the  semi-cir- 
cular canals.  Whirling  round  and  round,  or  moving 
the  head  rapidly  in  any  direction,  sets  in  motion  the 
'water'  of  the  canals  which  brushes  against  the  cells, 
giving  rise  to  the  sensation  of  swimming  or  of  diz- 
ziness. Sensations  sometimes  of  lightness  in  the 
head,  sometimes  of  pressure  or  squeeze  in  the  region 
of  the  ears,  depend  mainly  upon  changes  in  a  struc- 
ture called  the  otolith  membrane,  situated  in  the 
vestibule  of  the  internal  ear.  "This  consists,"  says 
Piersol,  *'of  a  gelatinous  membrane  in  which  are 
embedded  numberless  small  crystalline  bodies,  the 
otoliths  or  ear-stones."  A  given  position  or  move- 
ment of  the  head  is  accompanied  by  a  given  posi- 
tion or  movement  of  the  otoliths  which,  through  the 
stimulation  of  the  neighboring  nerve  fibrils,  gives 
rise  to  the  sensations  just  named. 

Titchener's  'Touch-Blends'.  A  hard  substance  is  one 
which  offers  resistance,  which  forces  together  articular  sur- 
faces, say  of  the  hand  or  fing-ers;  a  soft  substance  is  one 
which  offers  little  or  no  resistance,  which  leaves  the  joint 
surfaces  free.  'Hardness'  and  'softness'  denote  differences 
in  cutaneous  and  articular  pressure  sensations.  The  term 
'wetness',  of  everyday  speech,  is  used  to  refer  to  a  variety 
of  complex  sensory  experiences.  Thus  the  hands  feel  'wet' 
when  taken  from  a  bowl  of  water,  a  dish-cloth  feels  wet, 
our  clothing  is  wet  through,  as  in  a  drenching  rain.  Two 
sensory  elements  seem  always  to  be  present  in  the  ex- 
perience of  wetness:  a  certain  temperature  different  from 
the  part  of  the  body  affected,  and  a  certain  pressure  sensa- 
tion. Under  some  conditions  these  two  alone  suffice  to 
arouse  the  feeling  of  wetness;    usually,  however,  they  are 


114  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

accompanied  by  perceptions  of  a  smooth,  uniform  move- 
ment over  the  skin  surface,  and  of  w^eight  or  resistance. 
Dryness  is  a  complex  of  variations  of  the  same  sensations 
and  perceptions.  Roughness,  when  it  relates  to  an  object 
affecting  the  skin,  means  a  broken,  irregular  movement  and 
the  'variable  stimulation  of  the  pressure  spots  of  the  skin.' 
Smoothness  means  a  free,  easy,  regular  move- 
ment over  the  skin  surface  and  the  uniform  stimulation  of 
the  cutaneous  pressure  spots.  "Clamminess",  says  Titchener, 
'is  a  mixture  of  cold  and  soft;  the  cold  sensations  and  the 
pressure  elements  in  the  softness  must  be  so  distributed  as 
to  give  the  perception  of  moisture.  .  .  .  Oiliness  is 
probably  due  to  a  certain  combination  of  smoothness  and 
resistance;  movement  seems  to  be  necessary  to  its  per- 
ception.'" 

Organic  Sensations.  —  Certain  sensations  originat- 
ing in  the  digestive,  circulatory,  respiratory,  and 
genital  organs  are  grouped  under  the  general  name, 
Organic  Sensations.  Among  them  may  be  named 
the  sensations  of  hunger,  repletion,  thirst,  nausea, 
the  oppressiveness  from  breathing  stuffy  air,  the 
sense  of  exhilaration  from  breathing  fresh,  clear 
air,  characteristic  sensations  from  the  heart  region 
in  anxiety,  fear,  disappointment,  or  after  great 
physical  exertion. 

Although  it  is  true,  as  Titchener  observes,  that, 
as  compared  with  our  knowledge  of  the  sensations 
of  sight  and  hearing  'our  knowledge  of  the  organic 
sensations  is  scrappy  in  form  and  small  in  amount', 
enough  is  known  to  warrant  the  statement  that 
most,  if  not  all,  of  the  latter  are  complex  experiences. 
Thirst,  for  example,  is  described  as  a  blending  of 
warmth  and  pressure  sensations;  hunger  consists 


M    Text-Book  of  Psychology,  171   f, 


CLASSES   OF   SENSATIONS  115 

of  pretty  definitely  localized  aches  and  pressure 
sensations;  and  it  may  be  said  that  the  remainder 
of  the  organic  sensations  are  probably  analyzable 
into  simpler  sensations,  chiefly  those  of  pressure, 
warmth,  cold,  and  pain. 

The  organic  sensations,  in  addition  to  whatever 
of  interest  may  attach  to  them  in  and  for  them- 
selves, are  especially  interesting  to  the  modern  stu- 
dents of  psychology  because  of  the  large  part  they 
play  in  the  life  of  feeling,  emotion,  and  what  are 
loosely  called  our  moods  and  temperaments.  We 
shall  speak  of  the  part  they  play  in  these  experiences 
in  later  sections. 

REFERENCES 

Angell:   Psychology,  Ch.  V. 

Howell:    Text-Book  of  Physiology. 

Myers:   A   Text-Book  of  Experimental   Psychology,  pp.   11- 

122. 
Pillsbury:   The  Essentials  of  Psychology,  Ch.  IV. 
Titchener:  A  Text-Book  of  Psychology,  §§  10-67. 


CHAPTER  V 

PERCEPTION 

Perception  Defined.— The  briefest  possible  common- 
sense  definition  of  perception  is:  'Perception 
is  the  consciousness  of  particular  material  things 
present  to  sense.'^  (James).  Perception  is  thus 
marked  off,  on  the  one  hand,  from  pure  sensation 
which  is  the  bare  consciousness  of  a  thing's  qual- 
ities, and  which  in  itself  is  never  awareness  of  the 
existence  of  the  'thing' ;  and,  on  the  other  hand, 
from  images,  mental  pictures  of  objects,  the  repre- 
sentation thereof,  after  they  cease  to  be  present  to 
sense.  Thus  we  agree  to  call  the  consciousness 
which  the  light  of  a  bright  moon  may  arouse  in  the 
mind  of  a  week-old  babe  —  Sensation ;  a  grown  per- 
son's consciousness  of  the  moon  as  he  gazes  at  it  — 
Perception ;  and  the  visual  picture  which  one  may 
have  of  the  moon  after  its  disappearance  from  view 
—  an  Image. 

Like  many  other  distinctions  which  the  description  of  our 
mental  life  Involves,  the  ones  just  drawn  between  percep- 
tions and  sensations  on  the  one  hand  and  images  on  the 
other  are  somewhat  artificial  and  arbitrary.  In  actual 
experience,  sensations  shade  into  perceptions,  and  percep- 
tions into  images,  so  that  no  sharp  lines  of  distinction  can  be 
drawn,  except  by  leaving  out  of  account  many  border-land 
phenomena.  And  yet,  there  are  certain  easily  discernible 
differences  between  perceptions  and  sensations  and  between 


1  By  'things'  is  meant  not  only  what  in  everyday  speech  we  des- 
ignate as  'things'- — a  book,  a  tree,  a  star, — together  with  their 
properties   and   conditions,   but   also  events  and   situations. 

(116) 


PERCEPTION  117 

perceptions  and  images.  The  study  of  the  former,  to  which 
we  now  turn,  should  also  add  to  our  knowledge  of  the  nature 
of  perception  as  a  distinct  form  of  consciousness.  The  dif- 
ferences and  likenesses  between  perceptions  and  images  will 
be  described  in  the  chapter  on  Mental  Images,     (p.  138ff.) 

Perception  and  Sensation  Compared.  —  We  have 
said  that  pure  sensations  are  bare  consciousnesses 
of  the  qualities  of  objects,  such  as  redness  or  sour- 
ness or  coldness,  without  any  accompanying  thought 
of  the  objects  themselves,  or  of  the  qualities  as  be- 
longing to  objects.  Sensations  are  aroused  by  the 
action  of  external  objects  upon  the  sense-organs, 
but  in  themselves  they  are  not  a  consciousness  of 
such  objects.  The  distinctive  mark  of  a  Perception, 
on  the  other  hand,  is  that  it  is  a  consciousness  of  a 
thing  which  at  the  moment  is  present  to  sense;  it  is 
at  least  ,the  consciousness  of  'something  there.'  In 
sensation,  the  qualities  of  things^^  coloYs,~'  tastes, 
coldnesses,  for  example  —  are  experienced  as  bare 
colors,  tastes,  coldnesses,  while  in  perception  they 
are  thought  of  as  belonging  to  things  outside  the 
mind.  To  illustrate:  if  rays  from  an  electric  light 
chance  to  fall  upon  the  eyes  of  a  ten  days'  old  babe 
they  probably  awaken  only  a  light  sensation.  Three 
years  later,  rays  from  the  same  light  falling  upon 
the  same  eyes  awaken  a  perception  of  the  light,  the 
consciousness  of  'something-out-there'  which  the 
child  calls  'light.'  The  difference  between  sensation 
and  perception  may  also  be  expressed  by  saying  that 
while  both  depend-  upon  the  excitation  of  sense- 
organs  by  external  objects,  only  the  latter  carries 
within  itself  the  consciousness  of  such  objects.  Per- 
ception always  points,  however  indefinitely,  toward 


118  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

something;  sensation,  on  the  contrary,  never  points 
to,  never  means  anything ;  it  simply  is. 

From  another  point  of  view,  we  may  say  that 
whereas  sensations  are  simple,  elementary  processes, 
in  the  sense  explained  in  Chapter  III,  perceptions 
are  always  complex  and  comprise  a  central  sensory 
factor  supplemented  by  other  sensations,  images, 
thoughts,  which  constitute  the  perception's  meaning. 
For  instance,  your  perception — 'piano',  when  a  piano 
note  is  struck  in  your  hearing,  is  a  complex  and  con- 
sists of  tonal  sensations  supplemented  by  images  and 
thoughts  .of  the  general  appearance  of  the  instru- 
ment, its  size,  location,  weight,  color,  lustre,  the 
thought,  or  feeling,  of  the  words,  'piano  tone',  and 
so  on.  Sensations  are  simple,  elementary;  percep- 
tions are  complex  and  comprise  a  number  of  related 
sensory,  imaginal,  and  thought  factors. 

The  Genesis  of  Perception. —  In  the  foregoing  par- 
agraphs we  have  indicated  the  general  nature  of 
perception,  and  also  certain  respects  in  which  it  dif- 
fers from  sensation.  Let  us  turn  next  to  the  ques- 
tion of  the  origin  and  development  of  perception  in 
individual  experience.  An  illustration  will  aid  us 
perhaps  in  understanding  the  nature  of  the  latter 
question.  Suppose  that,  as  you  sit  in  your  room,  a 
certain  series  of  sounds  from  the  street  reaches  your 
ears,  and  you  say,  'a  motor-cycle.'  Nov/,  if  you  in- 
quire concerning  the  nature  of  your  consciousness, 
your  perception  of  the  motor-cycle,  you  probably 
find  a  series  of  explosive  noises,  located  more  or  less 
definitely;  possibly  a  faint  visual  picture  of  a  mov- 
ing figure,  possibly  also  more  or  less  strongly 
marked  organic  sensations,  and  the  thought  —  *mo- 


PERCEPTION  119 

tor-cycle'.  If  you  know  the  machine  and  its  rider 
well,  your  consciousness  will  likely  be  richer,  fuller 
of  details ;  but  it  need  not  be ;  it  may  still  be  merely 
the  indefinite  localization  of  a  recognized  sound.  If 
now  we  ask  by  what  steps  this  and  similar  percep- 
tions grow  up,  what  are  the  conditions  of  their  ap- 
pearance as  distinct  forms  of  an  individual's  mental 
activity,  then  we  must  retrace  the  experiences  which 
taught  us  that  sound  sensations  in  general  originate 
in  external  stimuli,  and  that  these  particular  sounds 
belong  to  motor-cycles.  Stated  otherwise  the  prob- 
lem of  the  genesis  of  perception  in  individual 
experience  is  —  by  what  steps  does  an  infant  get 
from  the  plane  of  pure  sensation — where  sensations 
mean  nothing,  where  they  awaken  no  thoughts  of 
things,  but  are  a  series  of  bare  flashes  of  conscious- 
ness —  to  the  plane  of  perception  where  sensory  im- 
pulses at  once  awaken  images  and  thoughts  of  par- 
ticular things?  The  key  to  the  answer  to  this 
question  is  found  in  the  simple  law  (which  we  may 
call  the  general  law  of  the  perceptual  process)  that 
any  sensory  experience  which  resembles  a  former 
one  tends  to  arouse  images  and  thoughts  of  the  for- 
mer's associates.  The  consciousnesses  thus  aroused 
may  be  images  of  one  or  more  of  a  thing's  sensory 
qualities,  or  they  may  be  merely  bare  thoughts  of 
the  thing's  name  or  location,  or  merely  of  'something 
there'.  Thus  an  odor  from  ripe  apples  may  awaken 
in  one's  mind  images  of  apples  of  a  given  color,  a 
given  form,  size,  hardness  or  mellowness,  roughness 
or  smoothness,  and  so  on;  or  merely  the  naked 
vocable  or  the  fleeting,  inarticulate  thought — 'ap- 
ples.'   A  corollary  of  the  foregoing  law  is  that  the 


120  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

recurrence,  in  kind,  of  any  sensory  experience  which 
has  previously  been  a  factor  in  the  consciousness  of 
any  particular  thing  may  serve  as  the  vehicle  of  the 
thing's  perception,  may  mean  that  thing.  For  ex- 
ample, a  given  sensory  impression,  either  of  color, 
or  of  odor,  or  of  touch-blend,  may  mean  —  to  one 
familiar  with  the  fruit  —  'orange'. 

With  these  general  principles  of  the  perceptional 
process  in  mind,  let  us  trace  briefly  the  steps 
whereby  a  baby  acquires  the  perception  of  a  given 
object  —  for  example,  some  toy.  We  may  suppose 
that  the  toy  is  shown  to  the  child,  and  that  he  expe- 
riences a  series  of  sight  sensations,  say  red,  blue, 
and  yellow.  Suppose  also  that  the  child  is  allowed 
to  handle  the  toy  and  that  he  gets,  along  with  the 
visual  sensations,  certain  experiences  of  touch, 
weight,  resistance,  smoothness,  hardness,  move- 
ment, possibly  the  odor  of  fresh  paint,  possibly  also 
sound  sensations  —  either  those  which  the  toy  makes 
under  manipulation  or  of  its  spoken  name.  Now, 
while  looking  at  and  handling  the  toy,  these  various 
sensory  experiences  —  the  sound  which  the  toy 
makes  when  shaken,  the  sound  of  its  spoken  name, 
its  appearance  to  the  eye,  the  way  it  'feels  to  touch' 
—  become  linked  together,  so  that  the  recurrence,  in 
kind,  of  one  of  these  tends  to  revive  images  and 
thoughts  of  the  others.  Whenever  such  a  revival 
actually  occurs,  we  have  a  rudimentary  form  of  the 
perceptional  process.  This,  the  stage  at  which  a 
particular  kind  of  sensory  process  awakens  images 
or  thoughts  of  sensory  qualities  formerly  associated 
therewith,  may  be  called  the  first  stage  of  percep- 


PERCEPTION  121 

tion;  we  shall  see  presently  that  it  is  not  the  final 
one. 

Observation  of  certain  phenomena  of  the  early- 
stages  of  the  infant's  mental  development  strongly 
confirms  the  view  that  perception  begins  in  some 
such  way  as  that  just  described.  To  cite  only  one 
example:  observers  of  the  behavior  of  infants  re- 
port that  searching  for  the  source  of  sounds  appears 
first  near  the  beginning  of  the  third  month.  Thus, 
if  one  stands  outside  of  the  child's  field  of  vision 
and  makes  a  noise  with  a  familiar  toy,  the  child 
wriggles  and  turns  about  as  if  looking  for  the  source 
of  the  sound.  It  seems  likely  that  in  instances  of 
this  sort  certain  visual  pictures  have  become  asso- 
ciated with  particular  auditory  experiences,  and 
that  the  recurrence  of  the  latter  revives,  according 
to  the  law  mentioned  a  little  while  ago,  the  former. 

But  perception  which  consists  merely  or  mainly 
of  the  revived  images  of  sensible  qualities  not  at  the 
moment  present  to  sense  is  distinctly  a  first  stage,  a 
baby's  way  of  perceiving.  A  higher  stage  is  reached 
when  the  child's  perceptions  are  of  things  localized 
in  a  given  direction  and  in  a  given  place  in  space. 
Thus  one  combination  of  light  and  color  means  —  a 
horse  in  the  street;  another,  a  soaring  eagle;  one 
sound  means  —  a  barking  dog  across  the  way ;  an- 
other, children  playing  in  the  yard  below;  one  odor 
means — frying  bacon ;  another,  the  furnace  is  smok- 
ing, and  so  on  for  the  whole  round  of  our  sensory 
impressions  and  the  meanings  which  they  acquire 
in  the  course  of  experience. 

It  may  be  observed  in  passing  that  in  the  course 
of  normal  development,  children  reach  a  plane  which 


122  ELEMENTS   OF  PSYCHOLOGY 

is  characterized  by  pre-occupation  with  objects  of 
sense.  The  child  lives  and  has  his  being  in  a  world 
of  perceived  things.  He  is  absorbed  in  objects  of  the 
outer  world,  their  names  and  physical  properties, 
whence  they  come  and  their  uses.  The  stage  is  pre- 
eminently one  of  sense-perception.  In  time  the 
objects  of  sense  lose  somewhat  of  their  charm;  and 
the  perceptions  of  the  developed  mind  are  usually 
nothing  more  than  the  bare  thoughts  of  the  per- 
ceived things.  Thus,  one  hears  a  distant  noise  and 
thinks  —  'railway-train-over-there',  or  glances  out 
of  the  window  at  the  falling  snow-flakes  and  thinks 
— 'it's  snowing',  or  gets  a  given  odor  and  thinks  *a 
cigar',  and  that  is  all.  It  is  only  rarely  that  our 
perception  consists  in  anything  more  than  the  barest 
pulse  of  recognitive  thought.  We  know  the  thing, 
and  that  is  enough.  We  do  not  stop  to  image  it  or 
any  of  its  properties;  perhaijs  it  gets  named  and 
located;  but  comparatively  few  perceptions  of  the 
adult  mind  include  even  the  thought  of  the  perceived 
thing's  name. 

Variations  in  Perceptional  Stimuli.  —  Ordinarily 
our  perception  of  a  given  thing  —  say  a  building,  a 
vehicle,  an  article  of  food,  clouds,  a  piece  of  ice, 
depends  upon  the  recurrence  of  one  of  a  small  num- 
ber of  definite  sensory  experiences  which  have  be- 
come, through  custom,  factors  in  our  consciousness 
of  that  thing.  Moreover,  most  of  the  perceptions  of 
normal  persons  are  aroused  by  either  visual  or  audi- 
tory cues.  Thus,  the  normal  person's  perceptions  of 
buildings,  trees,  a  clouded  sun,  usually  depend  upon 
given  visual  impressions;  perceptions  of  street-cars 
and  automobiles  depend  upon  either  definite  audi- 


PERCEPTION  123 

tory  or  visual  stimuli.  But  it  is  also  clear  that  any 
sensory  experience  may  arouse  the  perception  of 
any  particular  thing,  provided  that  a  similar  expe- 
rience has  at  some  former  time  been  a  factor  in  our 
consciousness  of  the  thing.  For  example,  a  sudden 
change  in  temperature  may  mean  —  'clouded  sun', 
a  change  in  air  currents  —  'a  building  is  there',  a 
given  odor  may  mean  —  'mince  pie',  a  given  coldness 
or  the  touch-blends,  hardness,  smoothness,  wetness, 
may  mean  'ice'.  To  illustrate  further,  the  sensory 
cue  to  the  perception  of  a  tree  is  usually  a  blend  of 
light  and  color;  but  it  may  be  a  certain  touch,  or  a 
certain  noise,  as  when  the  wind  rushes  through 
branches  and  leaves ;  it  may  be  an  odor  either  from 
foliage  or  blossoms  or  fruit,  it  may  be  a  sudden 
pleasant  warmth  of  the  atmosphere  which  one  expe- 
riences most  strikingly  when  driving  on  a  cool  sum- 
mer's night  and  unexpectedly  passes  under  a  large 
tree  by  the  roadside.  Any  one  of  these  sensory  im- 
pressions may  serve  to  awaken  the  perception  — 
'tree.' 

The  sensory  element,  or  aspect,  of  a  perception  may  be 
likened  to  the  words  whereby  we  learn  to  designate  familiar 
objects.  At  first,  both  are  meaningless  and  both  may,  in 
the  course  of  experience,  acquire  meanings,  come  to  point  to 
particular  things.  In  much  the  same  way  that  the  word 
'coal',  seen  or  heard,  comes  to  mean  a  certain  kind  of  fuel, 
a  certain  sensation  either  of  color  or  contact  or  taste  or 
odor  comes  to  mean  'orange'. 

Variations  in  Our  Perceptions  of  Particular  Things. 
—  We  have  just  seen  that  although  our  perceptions 
of  given  things  arise,  ordinarily,  from  one  or  another 
of  a  small  number  of  sensory  impressions,  they  may, 


124  ELEMENTS   OF  PSYCHOLOGY 

under  given  conditions,  be  aroused  by  any  one  of  a 
great  variety  of  such  impressions.  We  may  next 
remark  that  the  nature  and  the  number  of  the  men- 
tal factors  which  are  present  in  the  perceptions  of 
given  things  vary  greatly  from  individual  to  indi- 
vidual and  from  time  to  time  in  the  experience  of 
the  same  individual.  These  variations  depend  upon 
differences  in  native  endowment  and  previous  expe- 
rience, upon  one's  mental  alertness  at  the  moment, 
upon  the  dominant  mood  and  the  trend  of  one's  con- 
sciousness, upon  the  nature  of  one's  immediate  in- 
terests or  occupation.  Thus  the  content  of  one's 
perceptions  may  be  dominantly  visual  or  auditory 
or  motor  (kinsesthetic) ,  or  it  may  consist  of  all  sorts 
of  combinations  of  visual,  auditory,  kinsesthetic,  and 
other  factors.  For  one  person  perceiving  is  chiefly 
seeing;  for  another,  it  is  hearing;  for  another,  'feel- 
ing'. For  example,  the  perception  'rooster  crowing' 
(if  aroused  by  an  auditory  stimulus  alone)  consists, 
for  one  mind,  mainly  of  a  given  recognized  but  in- 
definitely localized  sound ;  for  another,  it  is  a  visual 
picture  of  varying  clearness  and  distinctness  of  the 
fowl  in  the  crowing  attitude;  for  still  a  third,  it  con- 
sists chiefly  of  a  complex  of  sound  and  strain  sensa- 
tions, the  latter  being  due  to  the  imitation  of  the 
crower's  attitude. 

It  is  evident  that  individual  variations  in  the  per- 
ceptions of  given  things  depend  largely  upon  differ- 
ences in  individual  experience.  One  illustration  will 
suffice.  To  the  experienced  sailor,  a  shimmering 
light  on  the  distant  sea  means  'an  iceberg,'  while 
to  the  m^re  land-lubber  it  remains  unobserved  or  is 
a  mere  shimmer  'out  there';  it  awakens  no  associ- 


PERCEPTION  125 

ates  or  definite  thoughts  of  its  relations  to  other 
things. 

It  is,  perhaps,  unnecessary  to  dwell  upon  the 
obvious  fact  that,  other  things  equal,  one's  percep- 
tional consciousness  is  richer,  fuller  of  details,  more 
accurate  when  one  is  mentally  alert  than  when 
drowsy;  nor  upon  the  equally  obvious  diiferences 
among  individuals  in  respect  to  the  richness  or  pov- 
erty, clearness  or  dullness,  distinctness  or  vague- 
ness which  characterize  their  perceptions.  It  is  no 
less  clear  that  mental  trend,  immediate  interests  and 
occupation  determine  largely  whether  one  shall  or 
shall  not  perceive  the  things  which  at  a  given 
moment  are  present  to  sense;  and  also,  if  they  are 
perceived  at  all,  what  the  character  of  the  perception 
shall  be.  It  is  a  commonplace  that  we  are  usually 
blind  and  deaf  to  most  of  the  things  about  us ;  and, 
generally  speaking,  the  perceptual  consciousness  of 
grown  persons,  except  in  respect  to  the  things  which 
immediately  concern  them,  is  vague  and  barren. 
Sensory  impulses  reach  the  cortex,  the  fleeting 
thought  'something  there'  shoots  into  the  field  of 
consciousness,  but  instantly  fades  away.  What  the 
'something',  of  which  we  are  dimly  aware,  is,  where 
it  is,  of  what  stuff  it  consists,  we  do  not  know  or 
care. 

Illusions  of  Perception.  —  Every  perception  is  a 
consciousness  of  something  present  to  sense.  It  is 
a  true,  or  correct,  perception  if  the  sensible  qualities 
or  behavior  or  relationships  ascribed  to  a  given 
thing  are  or  may  be  confirmed  by  later  observation 
or  reflection ;  it  is  a  false  perception,  or  an  illusion, 
if  they  cannot  be  so  confirmed. 


126  ELEMENTS   OF  PSYCHOLOGY 

Classes  of  Illusions. — Illusions  may  be  classified 
roughly  as  (1)  those  due  mainly  to  the  influence  of 
the  central,  i.  e.,  mental  or  cortical,  processes;  (2) 
those  due  chiefly  to  equivocal  or  deceptive  processes 
in  the  sense-organs;  (3)  those  dependent  upon  the 
joint  or  alternate  action  of  the  two  foregoing  prin- 
cipal causes.  The  situations  in  which  these  two  sets 
of  causes  operate  either  separately  or  conjointly  to 
give  rise  to  false  perceptions  instead  of  correct  ones 
may  be  illustrated  briefly. 

Illusions  that  depend  chiefly  upon  the  influence  of 
the  central  factors  are  due  very  frequently  to  the 
fact  that,  at  the  moment  of  receiving  a  particular 
sensory  impression,  the  mind,  for  some  reason,  'is 
temporarily  full,'  to  use  James'  phrase,  of  either 
images  or  thoughts  of  the  object  which  is  wrongly 
perceived.  Numerous  illustrations  might  be  given 
of  illusions  due  to  one's  mental  trend,  or  'cortical 
set'.  The  two  following  will  suffice.  Suppose  that 
one  walking  by  night  in  a  strange  wood  sees  ahead 
of  him  a  darkish  object  bearing  spots  of  light.  The 
thing  is  a  log  holding  cups  of  water  which  reflect 
the  light  of  moon  and  stars.  But  if  our  imaginary 
traveller's  mind  is  full  of  images  and  thoughts  of 
wild  beasts,  he  will  not  unlikely  perceive  the  log  and 
water  as  a  beast  of  prey  with  gleaming  eyes.  An- 
other familiar  illustration  of  the  influence  of  the 
dominant  mental  trend  or  imagery  is  —  one's  mis- 
taking the  ringing  of  a  bicycle  bell  for  that  of  the 
door-bell  when  one  is  expecting  a  visitor.  In  other 
cases,  the  illusion  is  due  to  the  fact  that  a  sensory 
impulse  awakens  its  habitual  associates  which,  in  the 
given  instance,  are  not  or  can  not  be  verified  by  later 


PERCEPTION  ♦  127 

observation.  For  example,  a  student  of  the  'Psy- 
chology of  Suggestion'  relates  that  when  he  sprayed 
the  desks  and  floor  of  a  school  room  with  distilled 
water  (which  is  perfectly  odorless)  from  a  Cologne 
bottle,  several  of  the  children  present  were  sure  that 
they  smelled  Cologne;  spray  from  a  Cologne  bottle 
had  in  former  experience  given  the  odor  of  the  per- 
fume and  so  suggested  it  in  the  instance  cited.  On 
another  occasion,  the  majority  of  a  class  in  psychol- 
ogy read  'psychogaly'  as  'psychology' ;  they  caught  a 
glimpse  of  the  first  part  of  the  trick  word  or  of  its 
general  form  and  length  which  revived  its  custom- 
ary associate — 'psychology'.  Another  illustration  of 
illusion  due  to  habit  or  association  is  the  following : 
a  few  evenings  ago  the  writer  heard  a  distant  noise 
which  immediately  suggested  a  faint  picture  of  a 
drove  of  ducks  and  the  thought  —  'ducks  quacking' ; 
then  he  remembered  that  it  was  Hallowe'en  and  the 
sound  was  heard  as  one  produced  by  a  particular 
kind  of  noise-maker  called  a  'horse-fiddle.'  Certain 
features  of  similar  noises  had  on  some  former  occa- 
sion been  associated  with  'quacking  ducks',  and  upon 
their  recurrence  awakened  that  perception  which, 
in  the  instance  cited,  happened  to  be  false.  Just  why 
that  particular  noise  meant  just  that  particular 
thing  and  not  some  other  one  of  a  multitude  of  other 
possible  things  is  a  problem  that  belongs  to  a  later 
chapter.  It  will  suffice  here  to  observe  that,  in  the 
case  cited,  the  present  impression,  through  its  re- 
semblance to  an  earlier  one,  revived  one  of  that  ear- 
lier impression's  associates,  but  a  wrong  one.  The 
foregoing  may  serve  as  illustrations  of  illusions  due 
to  mental  trend,  cortical  set,  and  habit. 


128 


ELEMENTS   OF  PSYCHOLOGY 


Illusions  of  the  second  class  are  due  chiefly,  we 
have  said,  to  either  the  equivocal  or  the  misleading 
nature  of  the  sensory  processes  involved  rather  than 
to  the  influence  of  mental  habit,  cortical  trend,  or 
expectancy.  To  this  class  belongs  the  illusion  that 
an  object  comes  nearer  when,  after  looking  at  it 
with  one  eye,  both  eyes  are  used  (James)  ;  the  moon's 


AiUiler-Ljer  J  lias  Ion 


'ZolLner  l/'n^S 

seeming  nearer  when  viewed  through  an  opera 
glass  than  when  seen  with  the  naked  eye;  the  illus- 
ion that  the  rising  moon  is  larger  than  the  moon  at 
full  height;  the  illusion  of  two  noses,  when  one 
crosses  the  second  finger  over  the  first  and  moves  the 
tips  of  the  crossed  fingers  to  and  fro  across  the 
bridge  of  the  nose;  the  illusion  which  one  gets  of 


PERCEPTION 


129 


'moving  up  stream'  after  gazing  steadily  for  a  time 

over  the  edge  of  a  bridge  at  the  flowing  water  below. 

Pages  128,  129  contain  a  few  of  the  better  known 

illusion-figures  which  will  serve  as  further  examples 


G 


O 


GOOOG 


ll 

i 

1 

T/>e  /i&YinS-f'^^^^ 


of  false  perceptions  that  are  due  chiefly  to  the  illu- 
sory character  of  the  sensory  processes  involved. 
In  the  Miiller-Lyer  figure  the  line  bearing  the  feath- 
ered ends  is  judged  to  be  longer  than  the  one  with 
the  arrow-heads,  although  they  are  found  to  be  of 


130 


ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 


equal  leng-th  when  measured.  In  the  Zollner  pat- 
tern the  longer  diagonal  lines  are  parallel,  though 
they  seem  to  tip  toward  each  other.  In  Figure  28  A 
the  vertical  and  the  horizontal  line  are  of  equal 
length,  though  the  former  looks  longer.  In  Figure 
28  B  the  distance  between  the  centers  of  the  outer- 
most circles  of  the  upper  and  lower  lines  is  the 
same,  yet  it  seems  greater  in  the  lower  one.  In  the 
Hering  figure  the  two  inside  vertical  lines  are  paral- 
lel, yet  they  seem  bent  or  bowed  at  the  center. 

The  illusions  which  we  have  described  in  the 
immediately  preceding  paragraphs  may  be  classed 
among  the  phenomena  of  the  normal  mental  life. 

It  remains  to  mention 
briefly  certain  illu- 
sions of  the  abnormal 
consciousness.  Some 
of  these  belong  to  the 
'dream  life,'  as  when 
a  sleeping  person  is 
touched  with  a  pin- 
point and  dreams  that 
he  is  being  run 
through  with  a  sword ; 
others  are  characteristic  of  the  hypnotic  state,  as 
when  a  hypnotized  subject  is  shown  a  few  scrawls 
on  a  sheet  of  paper  and  sees  them  as  a  photograph 
of  a  relative  or  as  a  copy  of  the  Declaration  of  In- 
dependence; still  others  are  of  frequent  occurrence 
in  the  insane,  as  when  a  patient  hears  the  jingle  of 
bells  and  imagines  the  martial  music  of  an  invading 
army.  In  these  illusions  a  sensory  stimulus  is  pres- 
ent, thus  marking  them  off  from  the  pure  hallucin- 


FiG.  29.      (From  Jastrow's  'Fact 
and  Fable  in  Psychology',  Fig.  19.) 


PERCEPTION 


131 


ations,  to  be  described  presently ;  but  its  nature  does 
not  warrant  the  character,  and  particularly  the  ex- 
aggeration of  the  consciousness  which  it  induces. 

Equivocal  Figures. —  The  influence  of  both  mental 
trend,  thoughts,  imagery  and  sensory  processes  — 
now  one,  now  the  other,  now  both  —  in  determining 
the  nature  of  one's  perceptions  is  strikingly  shown 
by  the  variety  of  experiences  one  gets  in  looking  at 
the  'equivocal  figures,'    (classed  by  some  authors 

^  w  i  t  h  the  illusions) 
shown  on  pages  130, 
131  and  132.  Thus, 
whether  one  shall  see 
figure  29  as  a  rabbit's 
or  as  a  duck's  head,  fig- 
ure 30  as  superimposed 
triangles,  or  as  a  hex- 
agon enclosed  by  six 
triangles,  or  as  a  dia- 
mond across  which  lies 
a  concave  polygon,  de- 
pends chiefly  on  how 
one  conceives  of  these 
difl'erent  figures,  i.  e., 
upon  one's  present  thoughts,  images,  and  purpose. 
On  the  other  hand,  the  fluctuations  in  one's  percep- 
tion of  D  (Thiery's  prism),  E  (changing  rings),  F 
(Mach's  book) ,  Fig.  31,  page  132,  depend  chiefly,  but 
not  wholly,  upon  muscular  changes  of  adaptation  in 
the  eyes;  while  one's  perception  of  figure  G,  as 
either  a  picture  frame,  or  as  the  bottom  of  a  dish,  as 
the  entrance  to  a  tunnel,  or  as  the  frustum  of  a  pyr- 
amid, or  as  a  small  square  set  in  the  midst  of  four 


Fig.  30. 


FJs.  3f, 


(122) 


PERCEPTION  133 

trapezoids,  depends  partly  upon  mental  factors, 
thoughts,  imagery,  and  partly  upon  eye  changes  — 
'muscular  changes  of  adaptation  in  the  eye  for  near 
and  far  distances'/ 

An  interesting  example  of  illusions  that  are  dependent 
upon  both  mental  habit  and  illusory  processes  in  the  sense- 
organs  is  that  the  larger  of  two  objects,  whose  weight  is  the 
same,  seems  lighter.  'This  illusion  persists',  says  Titchener, 
'in  spite  of  our  knowledge  that  the  weights  are  equal'. 

Hallucination. —  As  mental  experiences,  all  percep- 
tions, whether  true  or  false,  are  alike  in  that  they 
are  consciousnesses  of  particular  material  things 
present  to  sense.  The  only  difference  is  that  the 
true  perceptions  are  verifiable  in  a  broader  expe- 
rience, whereas  the  false  perceptions  are  not. 

One  group  of  false  perceptions — called  illusions — 
consists,  as  we  have  seen,  of  wrong  interpretations 
of  sensory  impressions ;  thus  a  moving  train  is  seen 
as  if  at  rest,  a  stump  of  a  tree  is  seen  as  a  ghost, 
the  rustle  of  leaves  is  heard  as  the  stealthy  approach 
of  an  enemy.  A  second  group  of  false  perceptions, 
called  hallucinations,  depend  almost  entirely  upon 
changes  in  the  sensory  cortical  centers  or  in  the 
sense-organs  themselves,  i.  e.,  they  arise  independ- 
ently of  the  ordinary  modes  of  sensory  stimulation 
—  by  light  waves,  sound  waves,  odorous  particles  in 
the  air,  etc.  Thus  one  'sees'  an  animal  enter  the 
room,  or  'hears'  words  spoken  by  a  familiar  voice, 


iFor  further  description  and  explanation  of  illusion  and  equi- 
vocal figures,  see  Sanford,  A  Course  in  Experimental  Psychology, 
1898,  Ch.  VII ;  also  Titchener^  Experimental  Psychology,  Vol.  I, 
pt.  1,  §  44  ;    pt.  II,  §§  49,  50. 


134  ELEMENTS   OF  PSYCHOLOGY 

or  'feels'  a  hand  laid  on  the  shoulder,  when  in  fact, 
in  the  first  case,  the  room  suffers  no  invasion,  animal 
or  other,  and  when,  in  the  other  two  cases,  no  human 
being  is  within  miles. 

The  centrally  excited  hallucinations,  those  de- 
pendent directly  on  changes  in  the  cortical  centers, 
are  supposed  to  be  due  to  the  presence  of  irritants — 
such  as  alcohol,  carbonic  acid,  or  ether  —  in  the 
blood  which  courses  through  the  brain.  The  peri- 
pherally excited  hallucinations  are  dependent  indi- 
rectly upon  physiological  processes  —  some  normal, 
some  abnormal  —  within  the  sense-organs.  Many 
of  the  hallucinations  of  the  insane,  of  the  drunkard 
in  delirium  tremens,  of  feverish  patients,  and  of  the 
dream  consciousness,  are  believed  to  be  due  to  this 
latter  cause. 

Those  hallucinations  which  sometimes  occur  in 
minds  which  are  otherwise  healthy  and  normal,  and 
which  cannot,  in  the  present  state  of  knowledge  con- 
cerning them,  be  assigned  to  any  specific  cause,  are 
probably  due  to  a  temporary  disturbance  of  the  nor- 
mal functioning  of  the  cortical  centers.  This  sup- 
position is  strengthened  by  the  observation  that 
they  usually  appear  as  features  of  mental  states 
which  are  highly  emotional  in  tone ;  their  customary 
setting  is  some  sort  of  mental  agitation,  usually  of 
extreme  anxiety  or  fear  or  anger  or  hope  or  a  mix- 
ture of  these  and  kindred  emotions.  For  example, 
the  case  which  James  quotes  from  Gurney's  Census 
of  Hallucinations,  of  the  girl-  who,  during  "a  very 
painful  discussion  with  an  elderly  person,"  wished 
very  much  for  the  opinion  of  a  brother  in  regard  to 


PERCEPTION  135 

the  matter,  and  turning  "around  saw  him  sitting  at 
the  further  end  of  a  center-table  with  his  arms 
folded,  ....  wearing  a  sarcastic  expression" 
.  .  .  although  he  was  not  at  the  time  near  the 
place,  is  probably  typical  of  the  hallucinations  of 
minds  otherwise  normal,  in  that  it  arose  in  a 
strongly  marked  emotional  setting,  namely,  of  dis- 
tress, anger,  longing,  and  so  on.  More  impressive 
illustrations  of  hallucinations  born  of  mental  strain, 
of  heat  oppressed  brains  are  found  in  the  works  of 
the  novelists,  poets  and  dramatists.  Readers  of 
Shakespeare,  for  example,  will  recall  that  he  got 
strong  dramatic  effects  in  the  portrayal  of  this  phe- 
nomenon. Banquo's  'ghost',  the  dagger  episode, 
Lady  Macbeth's  'blood-stained  hands'  will  readily 
occur  as  illustrations  of  the  fact  that  emotional 
storm  and  stress  is  one  fertile  source  of  hallucina- 
tory experiences. 

The  distinction  just  drawn  between  illusory  and  halluci- 
natory perceptions,  namely,  that  the  former  involve  the 
stimulation  of  sense-organs  by  objects  external  thereto, 
while  the  latter  arise  independently  of  such  stimulation,  is 
confessedly  arbitrary.  In  actual  experience,  hallucinations 
and  illusions,  as  regards  both  their  nature  and  causes,  shade 
into  one  another  by  imperceptible  degrees. 


See  James,  Prin.  of  Psych.  II,  p.  114  ff.  for  description  of 
'pseudo-hallucinations',  and  of  certain  forms  of  hallucination  that 
seem  to  be  perijiherally  excited.  For  theories  in  respect  to  the 
neural  basis  of  hallucinations,  see  .Tames  II,  122-131.  Pillshurj' 
(Essentials  of  Psychology,  p.  184  ff.)  maintains  that  all  hallucina- 
tory  experiences   are   probably   traceable   to   a   sensational   basis. 


136  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 


REFERENCES 

Angell:  Psychology,  Ch.  VI. 

James:   Principles  of  Psychology,  Vol.  II,  Ch.  XIX. 

Jastrow:  Fact  and  Fable  in  Psychology,  pp.  275-295. 

Judd:  Psychology,  Ch.  VI. 

Parish:  Hallucinations  and  Illusions. 

Sanford:   a  Course  in  Experimental  Psychology,  1898,  Ch. 

VII. 
Seashore:  Elementary  Experiments  in  Psychology,  Chs.  XII, 

XIV. 
Titchener:  a  Text-Book  of  Psychology,  §§  85-104. 
Titchener:  Experimental  Psychology,  Vol.  I,  Pt.  II,  §§  49, 

50. 
Witmer:  Analytic  Psychology,  Chs.  Ill,  IV. 


CHAPTER  VI 
MENTAL  IMAGES 

In  the  chapters  on  Sensation  and  Perception,  we 
were  concerned,  mainly,  with  processes  which  arise 
only  upon  the  stimulation  of  the  sense-organs.  Men- 
tal Images,  which  we  shall  now  study,  depend  im- 
mediately upon  changes  in  the  cortical  centers  rather 
than  upon  sensory  stimuli. 

The  term  'mental  image'  is  used  in  psychology 
in  three  fairly  distinct  meanings.  First,  it  is  used 
to  designate  a  special  class  of  conscious  processes  in 
distinction  from  sensations,  perceptions,  thoughts, 
emotions,  volitions,  and  so  on.  In  this  case,  it 
means  a  centrally  excited  mental  process  which 
resembles  in  essential  respects  an  earlier  perception, 
i.  e.,  an  earlier  consciousness  of  a  particular  material 
thing  present  to  sense.  For  example,  our  images  of 
the  faces  of  our  friends,  of  familiar  stretches  of 
landscape  or  of  well  known  strains  of  music  resem- 
ble, in  some  degree,  our  former  perceptions  of  these 
objects.  The  term  is  also  used  in  a  narrower  sense 
as  the  equivalent  of  'memory-image'  which  differs 
from  the  broader  term  —  mental  image  —  by  the 
fact  that  a  peculiar  sense  of  pastness  and  of  owner- 
ship attaches  to  the  experiences  which  we  know  by 
means  of  the  former.  In  the  third  place,  we  use  the 
term  to  mean  an  'image  of  imagination',  which  may 
be  described  provisionally  as  a  new  and  strange  com- 

(137) 


138  ELEMENTS   OF  PSYCHOLOGY 

bination  of  perceptions  and  mental  images,  or  of 
either  of  these,  as  when  one  images  Cupid  lightly 
poised  in  the  crescent  of  a  new  moon.  We  shall  be 
concerned  in  the  present  chapter  with  mental  images 
in  general.  The  distinctive  features  of  this  class  of 
mental  phenomena  can  be  shown  best,  perhaps,  by 
comparing  them  with  perceptions  and  ideas  —  proc- 
esses to  which  they  are  closely  related. 

Perception  and  Image  Compared. — The  compar- 
ison usually  drawn  between  perceptions  and  images 
relates,  primarily,  to  the  sensory  element,  or  aspect, 
of  the  original  perception,  on  the  one  hand,  and  to 
the  corresponding  aspect  of  the  image,  on  the  other. 
From  this  point  of  view,  it  was  said  in  the  preceding 
paragraph  that  the  image  of  a  given  thing  resembles 
in  essential  respects  a  perception  of  the  thing.  For 
example,  one's  images  of  one's  breakfast-table,  or 
of  the  sound  of  a  bell,  or  of  the  odor  of  coal-smoke, 
resemble  more  or  less  fully  one's  earlier  perceptions 
of  these  objects.  Again  one's  images  of  particular 
colors,  tones,  tastes,  odors,  temperatures,  resemble 
the  sensory  quality  of  those  particular  colors,  tones, 
and  so  on.  The  image  of  a  red  book  or  of  the  taste 
of  a  sour  apple  has  the  same  quality  of  redness  in 
the  one  case  and  sourness  in  the  other  as  the  original 
perceptual  experience.  In  short,  the  image  and  the 
perception  of  a  given  thing  are  always  qualitatively 
similar.  Moreover,  the  image  of  the  tones  of  a  mel- 
ody or  of  an  object  that  possesses  a  varied  color 
pattern  reproduces,  in  some  measure,  the  order  and 
the  relations  of  the  perceived  colors  and  tones. 
Imaging  my  breakfast-table  or  the  notes  of  'The 
Star-Spangled  Banner',  for  example,  means  pictur- 


MENTAL   IMAGES  139 

ing  not  only  the  qualities  of  the  several  colors  in 
the  one  case  and  tones  in  the  other,  but  also  imaging 
the  colors  in  their  respective  places  on  the  table  and 
the  tones  in  their  proper  order  in  the  tune.  In  brief, 
the  image  and  the  perception  of  an  object  resemble 
one  another  in  respect  to  both  the  qualities  and  (in 
the  case  of  many  objects)  the  order  and  arrange- 
ment of  their  several  parts.  So  much  with  respect 
to  the  easily  observed  points  of  agreement  between 
perceptions  and  images.  Practically,  their  differ- 
ences are  no  less  evident;  otherwise  we  should  be 
puzzled  all  the  while  as  to  whether  our  days  are 
being  passed  in  a  world  of  perceived  things  or  in  a 
world  of  merely  imaged  ones.  Let  us  next  note  some 
of  the  ways  in  which  perceptions  and  images  differ. 
We  have  said  several  times  already  that  percep- 
tion depends  immediately  upon  the  stimulation  of  a 
sense-organ,  and  that  images  arise  independently  of 
such  stimulation,  that  in  the  former  case  the  object 
is  present  to  sense  and  that  in  the  latter  it  is  not. 
We  have  now  to  consider  certain  differences  between 
perceptions  and  images  which  arise  directly  out  of 
this  primary  difference  in  the  conditions  of  their 
occurrence. 

(a)  Variations  in  our  perceptions  are  controlled 
chiefly  by  variations  in  sensory  stimulation,  while 
variations  in  our  images  are  relatively  free  from 
this  influence ;  our  images  possess  a  certain  freedom 
and  independence  which  perceptions,  owing  to  their 
necessary  dependence  upon  sensory  stimuli,  lack. 

(b)  It  is  characteristic  of  many  perceptions  that 
they  obtrude  themselves,  so  to  speak,  into  the  stream 
of  consciousness,  they  come  unbidden  and  often  with 


140  ELEMENTS   OF  PSYCHOLOGY 

an  aggressiveness  which  sweeps  all  before  it^  The 
image,  on  the  other  hand,  has,  in  the  normal  mind, 
nothing  about  it  which  suggests  the  bold  obtrusive- 
ness  of  perceptions.  This  general  difference,  again, 
obviously  depends  upon  the  fundamental  difference 
in  the  conditions  of  the  appearance  of  the  two  pro- 
cesses. 

This  quality  of  'aggressiveness',  of  'striking  the  mind  with 
force  and  liveliness',  virhich  perceptions  sometimes  possess,  is, 
in  Stout's  opinion,  the  chief  quality  which  marks  them  off 
from  images;  and  broadly  taken,  it  is  no  doubt  an  important 
ground  of  difference.  But  as  reflection  shows,  it  is  not  in 
itself  a  primary  difference;  it  is  dependent  upon  the  more 
fundamental  one  (already  mentioned  several  times),  in  the 
conditions  of  their  occurrence.  It  may  be  observed  inci- 
dentally that  it  is  likely  that  in  children,  in  highly  im- 
aginal  minds,  and  in  certain  diseased  minds,  'aggressiveness' 
is  not  so  obviously  a  peculiar  characteristic  of  their  percep- 
tional experiences  as  compared  with  their  imaginal. 

What  we  have  described  as  the  'aggressiveness'  of  per- 
ceptions is  closely  akin  to  their  'inevitableness'  and  'involun- 
tariness'  as  described  by  Calkins.  She  writes:  "I  must  see 
and  touch  just  this  pen  ....  I  must  hear  this  tune 
and  must  smell  the  odor  of  falling  grass.  I  may  wish  that 
I  held  a  silver  pen  [instead  of  one  of  celluloid],  that  I  were 
smelling  roses  instead  of  hay;  but  I  am  bound  down,  in  my 
perceiving,  to  precisely  this  experience.  I  am,  in  a  word, 
directly  conscious  of  myself  as  receptive.  And  this  direct 
consciousness  of  my  receptivity,  prominent  in  my  perception, 
is  wanting  to  my  imagination.  In  some  sense,  at  least,  my 
imaginings  are  under  my  control."  ^ 

(c)  Another  difference,  which  also  results  from 
the  difference  in  the  conditions  of  their  occurrence, 
is  that  perceptions  are  more  likely  than  images  to  be 


1  A  First  Book  of  Psychology,  1910,  p.  11  f. 


MENTAL   IMAGES  141 

accompanied  or  followed  by  marked  organic  dis- 
turbances. The  sight  of  a  flash  of  lightning,  or  the 
sound  of  martial  music,  not  infrequently  produces  in 
us  unmistakable  bodily  commotion ;  but  it  is  exceed- 
ingly rare  that  the  image  of  either  of  these  things 
occasions   perceptible  organic   disturbance. 

(d)  Certain  other  differences  between  perceptions 
and  images  may  be  briefly  noted.  We  may  remark, 
first,  that  the  perceptions  of  objects  and  the  images 
thereof  differ  in  that  the  former  are  more  vivid  than 
the  latter.  In  this  case,  also,  we  mean  that  the 
sensory  aspect,  or  factor,  of  the  original  perception 
is  more  vivid  than  the  corresponding  factor  of  the 
image.  For  instance,  the  sensory  aspect  of  one's 
experience  is  usually  more  vivid  when  one  is  listen- 
ing to  the  tones  of  a  piano  or  is  gazing  at  the  starry 
heavens  than  when  one  is  imaging  these  objects. 
Again,  perceptions  are  usually  clearer  and  more  dis- 
tinct than  their  corresponding  images ;  they  are  also 
steadier,  less  fluctuating;  they  usually  include  more 
details  and  the  order  of  the  arrangement  of  these 
details  is  more  accurate  in  the  perception  than  in  the 
image.  Conversely,  images  as  compared  with  per- 
ceptions are,  as  a  rule,  fainter,  less  vivid,  hazier, 
more  fluctuating,  less  complete  in  the  matter  of  de- 
tails, and  less  accurate  as  regards  the  order  and 
arrangement  of  the  latter. 

If  now  it  be  asked  how  perceptions  and  images  are 
distinguished  in  our  ordinary  waking  consciousness, 
we  must  answer  —  not  so  much  by  their  customary 
differences  in  vividness,  distinctness,  steadiness,  and 
accuracy  in  the  reproduction  and  ordering  of  details, 
or  even  by  the  quality  of  'aggressiveness'  possessed 


142  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

by  the  former,  as  by  the  sense  of  congruity,  or  har- 
mony, with  our  other  experiences  of  the  moment, 
or  the  absence  thereof,  which  each  awakens.  For 
example,  the  image  of  a  pufRng  locomotive  may  rise 
in  consciousness  as  one  looks  at  the  onward  rush  of 
a  foot-ball  team ;  but  we  know  it  is  an  image  and  not 
a  real  locomotive  for  the  simple  reason  that  its  ap- 
pearance at  that  moment  is  known  to  be  incongruous 
with  the  total  situation.  Again,  an  image  of  a  foot- 
ball scrimmage  as  one  stands  in  the  midst  of  engines 
and  trains  in  a  railway  station  is  recognized  as  an 
image  at  once  for  a  similar  reason.  It  is  not  prop- 
erly a  feature  of  such  surroundings.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  flying  colors,  the  cheers  of  spectators  at 
the  ball-game;  the  ringing  of  bells,  the  puffing  of 
engines,  the  odor  of  smoke  in  the  station,  are  imme- 
diately perceived  as  confi:ruous  with  their  respective 
total  situations,  and  '^>;ir  perceptional  character  is 
readily  admitted.  In  fact,  this  sense  of  congruity 
is  so  powerful  in  determining  w^hat  processes  shall 
be  deemed  perceptual  and  what  imaginal,  that 
images  often  fail  to  be  recognized  as  such,  if  they  are 
congruous  with  a  perceptual  situation,  and  with  the 
dominant  trend  of  consciousness.  Instances  of  this 
sort  were  described  in  the  paragraphs  on  Illusions 
(p.  126  ff.). 

We  have  just  seen  that  the  sense  of  congruity  is 
the  practical  test  most  frequently  employed  in  dis- 
tinguishing images  from  perceptions  when  our  total 
experience  is  predominantly  perceptional,  as  when 
watching  a  foot-ball  game  or  the  trains  in  a  railway 
station.  In  like  manner,  when  we  are  resting  quietly 


MENTAL   IMAGES  143 

in  our  room,  day-dreaming,  or  rehearsing  the  num- 
bers of  a  concert  which  we  have  recently  attended, 
or  repicturing  the  events  of  a  recent  trip,  or  merely 
retracing  the  day's  happenings,  the  noise  of  a  dog's 
barking  outside  our  window,  the  ticking  of  the  clock 
on  the  shelf,  odors  from  the  kitchen,  the  sight  of  the 
articles  of  furniture  about  us,  do  not  get  into  the 
train  of  imagery  for  the  simple  reason  that  they  do 
not  belong  there.  They  belong  to  a  different  group 
of  mental  experiences,  to  a  different  setting,  and  we 
are  conscious  of  them,  if  at  all,  as  features  of  their 
appropriate  perceptional  situations. 

In  order  that  the  sense  of  congruity  or  of  its  lack  shall 
arise  in  a  given  situation  and  shall  operate  so  as  to  make 
us  aware  of  what  is  perceptional  and  what  imaginal  in  a 
given  field  of  consciousness,  there  must  be  present  a  certain 
degree  of  self-consciousness,  we  must  know  at  least  dimly 
where  we  are  and  what  we  are  doing.  When  this  is  lack- 
ing, as  in  little  children,  the  line  between  perceptional  and 
imaginal  experiences  also  fades  out  or  becomes  shadowy. 
With  this  latter  fact  in  mind  we  are  often  able  to  listen  to 
a  child's  'fairy-stories'  without  great  alarm,  and  to  reaffirm 
our  belief  that  children  are  naturally  truthful. 

Image  and  Idea  Compared. —  The  consciousness  of 
a  previously  perceived  object  may  arise  in  the  form 
of  either  an  image  or  an  idea.  In  the  former  case, 
the  earlier  experience  is  copied,  reproduced  in  some 
sort  or  degree.  The  sensational  qualities,  the  par- 
ticular colors  or  tones  or  tastes,  or  what  not,  of  the 
original  experience  reappear,  in  some  measure,  in 
the  image;  further,  the  temporal  order  and  the 
spatial  arrangement  of  the  components  of  the  image 
resemble  those  of  the  earlier  process,    Thus,  when 


144  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

one  mentally  pictures  one's  study,  the  colors  of  the 
various  articles  of  furniture,  the  rug,  decorations, 
pictures,  table,  rows  of  books,  chairs,  together  with 
their  customary  positions  in  the  room,  are  repro- 
duced with  more  or  less  vividness  and  accuracy  in 
the  image.  In  brief,  the  distinctive  character  of  an 
image  is  that  it  is  primarily  in  some  sort  a  copy  of 
an  earlier  perceived  object.  On  the  other  hand,  the 
distinctive  mark  of  an  idea,  in  the  present  limited 
meaning  of  the  term,  is  that  it  is  a  thought  of,  a 
mental  nod  toward,  such  an  object.  To  ideate  an 
object  is,  in  this  sense,  to  refer  to  it,  to  point  toward 
it,  to  mean  it.  Now  the  idea  of  a  given  thing  — 
object,  event,  or  situation  —  may  involve  more  or 
less  of  imagery  of  the  thing ;  but  it  need  not.  Every 
case  of  thinking  by  means  of  symbols — signs,  words, 
formulae  —  is  an  illustration  of  this  fact.  When  one 
says,  for  example,  'horses  eat  corn  and  hay',  one 
expresses  certain  ideas,  indicates  certain  things; 
but  one  need  not  image  horses  or  corn  or  hay  or 
the  eating,  though  possibly  one  could  if  the  circum- 
stances required  it.  The  thought  of  the  words  is 
sufficient  to  convey  the  meaning.  The  difference 
between  imaging  a  thing  and  having  ideas  of  or 
about  it  may  be  further  illustrated  by  the  familiar 
observation  that  one  may  think  —  'the  roar  of  a 
cannon  is  louder  than  a  pistol  shot'  or  'the  bright- 
ness of  the  moon  exceeds  that  of  the  stars'  without 
imaging  the  cannon's  roar  or  the  pistol  shot  or  the 
brightness  of  moon  and  stars.  The  content  of  con- 
sciousness in  such  cases  need  not  be  distinctly  im- 
aginal  at  all ;  faint,  fleeting  images  or  sensations  of 


MENTAL   IMAGES  145 

the  words  are  sufficient  to  carry  the  meaning.  More- 
over, we  have  ideas  of  things  which  we  can  in  no 
sense  image.  For  example,  I  may  know  that  anger 
differs  from  fear,  and  yet  be  unable  to  image  either 
of  the  emotions  or  their  differences.  Again,  one 
may  have  ideas  about,  may  think  of,  the  odor  of 
onions,  but  still  be  unable  to  image  the  odor;  one 
may  know,  for  instance,  that  it  is  different  from  that 
of  locust  blossoms,  that  it  resembles  garlic,  that  it 
is  unpleasant  to  some  persons,  that  certain  super- 
stitions cluster  about  its  medicinal  virtues,  and  so 
on.  The  imaginal  consciousness  —  to  repeat  —  re- 
sembles in  some  sort  its  object:  the  ideational  con- 
sciousness is  merely  a  thought  reference  to  an  object 
without  any  implication  of  its  resemblance  thereto. 

Type  Images.  —  In  strictness,  every  perception  or  image 
of  a  particular  thing,  say  a  table  or  a  dictionary  or  a 
study-lamp,  differs  in  some  slight  degree  from  every  other. 
At  one  time,  one  is  most  vividly  conscious  of  one  aspect  of 
an  object;  at  another,  some  other  feature  is  most  promi- 
nent. In  my  perception,  say  of  my  study-lamp,  now  one 
property,  now  another — its  general  form,  size,  weight,  col- 
oring, odor,  steadiness  or  flicker  of  the  flame,  the  sound  it 
makes  when  handled — is  most  conspicuous.  Yet  out  of  all 
these  various  perceptions  of  the  lamp  —  one  may  possibly 
say,  despite  them — some  one  image  tends  to  precipitate  and 
to  get  itself  accredited  as  the  characteristic  image  of  the 
lamp.  In  like  manner,  the  various  perceptions  of  such  ob- 
jects as  one's  watch,  one's  pen-knife,  text-books,  pictures, 
articles  of  furniture,  the  house  in  which  one  lives,  one's 
friends — tend  to  issue  in  definite  imaginal  forms  which 
serve  to  designate  these  objects. 

Class  Images.  —  The  perception  of  a  number  of  individual 
objects,  which  so  far  resemble  one  another  that  wc  apply 
to   them   the   same  class-name,  tends  to   produce   a   general 

10 


146  ELEMENTS   OF  PSYCHOLOGY 

or  class  image  whereby  we  represent  or  refer  to  the  group 
as  a  whole  or  to  any  one  of  its  individual  members.  Thus, 
the  image  of  a  roundish  figure  of  a  given  size  and  golden 
yellow  in  color  means  either  oranges  as  a  class  or  the  indi- 
vidual members  thereof.  So  also  numerous  perceptions  of 
pine-apples,  oak  trees,  violin  tones,  'Ophelias',  Merry-go- 
Rounds,  polar  bears,  tend  to  give  rise  to  class  images  which, 
while  they  are  individual  as  mental  experiences,  serve  to 
designate  entire  classes  of  objects  and  also  the  individuals 
belonging  thereto.  The  type-images,  of  the  preceding  para- 
graph, are  formed  from  numerous  perceptions  and  images 
of  the  same  objects;  whereas,  the  class  images  are  pre- 
cipitates from  numerous  perceptions  and  images  of  similar 
objects. 

Individual  Differences  in  Mental  Imagery.  —  "Until 
very  recent  years,"  James  wrote  in  1890,  "it  was 
supposed  by  all  philosophers  that  there  was  a  typ- 
ical human  mind  which  all  individual  minds  were 
like,  and  that  propositions  of  universal  validity 
could  be  laid  down  about  such  faculties  as  'the 
Imagination'.  Lately,  however,  a  mass  of  revela- 
tions have  poured  in,  which  make  us  see  how  false 
such  a  view  is.  There  are  imaginations,  not  'the 
Imagination',  and  they  must  be  studied  in  detail. 

The  first  breaker  of  ground  in 

this  direction  was  Fechner,  who,  in  1860,  published 
the  results  of  a  most  careful  comparison  of  his  own 
optical  after-images,  with  his  optical  memory-pic- 
tures, together  with  accounts  by  several  other  indi- 
viduals of  their  optical  memory-pictures.  The  re- 
sult was  to  show  a  great  personal  diversity."  "It 
would  be  interesting,"  Fechner  remarked,  "to  work 
up  the  subject  statistically,"  that  is,  to  make  a  sta- 
tistical study  of  individual  differences  in  respect  to 


MENTAL  IMAGES  147 

imagery.  This  study  was  undertaken  later  by  Gal- 
ton,  an  English  scientist,  and  the  publication  of  his 
results  in  1880  marks,  James  observes,  "an  era  in 
descriptive  Psychology." 

Galton  employed  the  now  well-known  'question- 
aire  method',  which  consists  essentially  in  'submit- 
ting a  certain  number  of  printed  questions  to  a  large 
number  of  persons',  the  questions  in  this  case  call- 
ing for  data  in  regard  to  the  mental  imagery  of  the 
persons  interrogated.  Galton's  questionaire  is  pop- 
ularly known  as  the  'Breakfast-table'  questionaire; 
but  besides  questions  in  regard  to  the  clearness 
and  brightness  of  the  individual's  image  of  the 
breakfast  scene,  the  coloring  of  the  china,  the  arti- 
cles of  food  or  "whatever  may  have  been  on  the 
table",  it  contained  inquiries  in  regard  to  the  visual 
imagery  of  'panoramic  views',  the  location  of  things 
seen  mentally,  the  command  over  visual  images, 
images  of  the  light  and  color  of  clouded  skies,  visual 
images  of  persons,  of  scenery,  of  numerals  and 
dates,  images  aroused  by  printed  descriptions  of 
scenery,  hallucinations,  the  use  of  visual  imagery 
in  mechanics,  geometry,  mental  arithmetic,  and 
chess-playing  blindfold.  It  included  also  questions 
relating  to  the  faintness  or  vividness  of  images  of 

(a)  sound,  as  'of  the  ringing  of  a  church  bell,  the 
hum  of  bees,  the  clinking  of  tea-spoons  and  saucers ; 

(b)  of  smells,  as  of  tar,  a  rose,  tobacco;  (c)  of 
tastes,  as  of  salt,  lemon  juice,  chocolate;  (d)  of 
touch,  as  of  velvet,  sand,  dough;  (e)  other  sensa- 
tions—  heat,  hunger,  cold,  thirst;  also  a  question 
regarding   the   individual's    aptitude   for   mentally 


148  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

recalling  music,  or  for  imagining  it.'  Hence,  the 
fuller  title  which  Galton  employed  —  "Questions  on 
Visualizing  and  other  Allied  Faculties."^ 

The  subject  of  individual  differences  in  mental 
imagery  is  one  to  which  great  theoretic  interest  nat- 
urally attaches.  It  has,  besides,  a  number  of  prac- 
tical bearings.  For  instance,  students  of  the  educa- 
tive process  hold  that  it  is  practically  important  that 
teachers  shall  know  the  capacity  of  their  individual 
pupils  for  the  various  kinds  of  imagery.  Accord- 
ingly, since  Galton's  time  the  question  of  imaginal 
types  has  received  much  attention,  and  many  meth- 
ods of  determining  individual  capacities  and  vari- 
ations in  respect  to  imagery  have  been  employed. 
"The  principal  result  of  the  investigations  is,"  as 
Titchener  says,  "the  proof  that  type  is  far  more 
variable  and  more  complex  than  had  at  first  been 
supposed."  Still,  certain  minor  results  of  consider- 
able interest,  mainly  corroborative  of  the  views  of 
the  earlier  students  in  the  field,  have  been  definitely 
established,  and  we  shall  dwell  upon  them  for  a 
little  while.  These,  so  far  as  our  present  interest 
goes,  may  be  summed  up  in  the  statement  that  indi- 
viduals differ  greatly  in  respect  to,  (1)  the  kind 
of  mental  imagery  which  is  characteristic  of,  or  pre- 
dominant in,  their  remembering,  imagining,  and 
thinking;  (2)  the  vividness,  distinctness,  clearness, 
stability,  completeness,  and  accuracy  of  their  char- 
acteristic images.  We  shall  first  indicate  some  of 
the  more  easily  observed  differences  among  individ- 


*  GaltoNj  Inquiries   into    Human   Faculty  and   its   Development. 


MENTAL   IMAGES  149 

uals  in  respect  to  their  favorite  or  predominant 
kinds  of  imagery.  These  are  usually  described  in 
text-books  of  psychology  under  such  headings  as 
"Imaginal  Types,"  "Types  of  Mental  Imagery," 
"Ideational  Types."  In  later  paragraphs  we  shall 
describe  briefly  certain  differences  among  individ- 
uals in  respect  to  the  attributes  of  their  character- 
istic images. 

Imaginal  Types.  —  The  most  conspicuous  and  the 
most  interesting  difference  among  individuals,  as 
regards  their  imagery,  is  in  respect  to  the  sensory 
content,  or  basis,  of  the  images  which  are  most 
prominent  in  their  trains  of  consciousness.  Thus 
the  images  of  one  class  of  minds  consist  largely  of 
visual  material,  they  are  mental  pictures  of  things 
seen;  for  another  class,  they  consist  chiefly  of 
sounds,  of  things  heard ;  for  still  a  third,  images  of 
things  seen  or  heard  or  'felt'  arise  with  equal  ease 
and  frequency.  Differences  of  this  kind  appear 
very  clearly  when  one  examines  the  answers  which 
different  persons  give  to  such  a  list  of  questions  as 
those  first  used  by  Galton ;  or  the  following,  selected 
from  Seashore's  exercises:^ 

(1)  Can  you  image  the  color  of  a  green  leaf?  Can  you 
image  the  brightness  of  a  gray  stone?  the  form  of  a  tea- 
cup? Can  you  form  a  visual  image  of  a  moving  express 
train?  Can  you  hold  fairly  constant  for  ten  seconds  the 
image  of  the  color  of  a  rose? 

(2)  Can  you  image  the  sound  of  the  hum  of  bees?  Can 
you  image  the  characteristic  tone-quality  of  a  violin?  Can 
you  repeat  in  auditory  imagery  the  air  of  a  familiar  piece 
of  music? 

(3)  Can  you  image,  in  motor  terms,  yourself  clenching 


Elementary  Experiments  in  Psychology,  1908,  p.  108  ft. 


150  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

your  fist?  Do  you  get  motor  imagery  when  recalling  words 
like  Paderewski?  Bubble?  Can  you  form  a  motor  image 
of  the  weight  of  a  pound  of  butter? 

(4)  Can  you  form  a  tactual  image  of  the  pressure  of 
velvet?  of  the  flow  of  water  against  a  finger? 

(5)  Can  you  image  the  odor  of  coffee?  of  an  onion?  of 
camphor? 

(6)  Can  you  image  the  taste  of  sugar?  of  quinine? 

(7)  Can  you  image  the  coldness  of  ice  cream?  the 
warmth  of  hot  tea? 

(8)  Can  you  image  a  toothache  or  headache? 

It  is  very  likely,  in  other  words,  that  the  careful 
answering  of  these  questions  by  a  large  number  of 
persons,  say  a  class  of  university  students,  would 
bring  to  light  striking  differences  in  imaginal  type. 
Thus,  some  of  the  persons  interrogated  would  an- 
swer the  first  list  of  questions,  those  pertaining  to 
visual  images,  'Yes',  instantly  and  confidently,  but 
would  be  hesitant  and  doubtful  as  to  the  other  seven 
lists.  These  we  should  at  once  describe  as  'visual- 
izers.'  Possibly  others  would  show  a  like  readiness 
and  confidence  in  answering  the  second  list  of  ques- 
tions in  the  affirmative,  but  would  show  hesitancy 
and  doubt  as  to  the  other  lists:  they  can  image 
sounds,  but  are  unable  to  form  unequivocal  images 
of  things  seen,  touched,  or  of  movements,  odors, 
tastes,  temperatures  or  pains.  These  are  known  as 
the  'audiles'.  A  third  class  of  persons  would  affirm 
that  they  constantly  have  vivid,  life-like  images  of 
the  stresses  and  strains  which  accompany  the  move- 
ment of  the  organs  of  speech  when  talking,  or  the 
movement  of  the  limbs  as  in  skating  or  in  throwing 
a  ball  or  in  writing.  These  are  called  'motiles',  and 
their  favorite  images  are  the  motor,  or  kinsesthetic. 


MENTAL   IMAGES  151 

"It  has  been  asserted',  says  Angell,  'that  we  have  no 
genuine  motor,  or  kinaesthetic,  images,  [verbal  or  other] 
because  every  attempt  to  think  of  a  movement  results  in 
our  actually  making  the  movement  in  a  rudimentary  way; 
so  that  we  get  a  kinaesthetic  sensation  instead  of  a  kinaes- 
thetic image.  There  can  be  no  doubt  that  this  is  often  the 
case;  e.  g.,  the  effort  [to  image  the  'feel'  of  the  word  'college'] 
will  by  most  persons  be  found  to  be  accompanied  by  definite 
sensations  in  the  tongue  and  throat Mean- 
time, there  seems  to  be  no  reason  in  the  nature  of  the  case 
why  we  may  not  have  kinaesthetic  images  in  a  form  definitely 
distinguishable  from  the  kinaesthetic  sensations  to  which 
they  may  lead."  ^  Titchener,  in  reference  to  the  same  point, 
s»ys,  briefly,  "kinaesthetic  images  are  extremely  difficult  to 
distinguish  from  kinaesthetic  sensations.  The  difference,  in 
the  writer's  experience,  is  largely  a  matter  of  complexity: 
the  mental  nod  which  gives  assent  to  an  argument  is  more 
schematic,  involves  fewer  muscles  and  involves  them  less 
solidly  than  an  actual  nod". " 

The  answers  to  the  questions  on  p.  149  f.  would 
also  reveal  the  fact  that  a  large  majority  of  the 
persons  questioned  have-  good  imagery  in  a  number 
of  perceptual  (sensory)  fields,  particularly  visual 
and  auditory,  and  possibly  motor  and  tactual.  Their 
imagery  is  said  to  be  of  the  'mixed'  type. 

"When  a  mind  is  of  this  constitution",  says  Titchener, 
"an  operatic  performance  (for  example)  is  remembered 
[imaged]  in  all  three  ways,  as  something  seen,  as  some- 
thing heard,  and  as  something  'felt':  stage  and  performers 
are  visible  once  more,  voice  and  orchestra  are  heard  again, 
and   the  ease  or  difficulty  with  which   the   singers   reached 

their  high  and  low  notes  is  sympathetically  revived 

But  an  equal  balance  of  tendencies  is  rare:  even  when  a 
mind  is  to  be  classed  as  'mixed'  in  type,  experiment  gen- 
erally shows  that  some  one  side  of  it  (the  eye-side,  ear-side, 
etc.)  is  more  strongly  developed  than  the  others."^ 

1  Angell,  Psychology,  1908,  p.  199  f.  2  Titchener,  A  Text- 
Book  of  Psychology,  1910,  p.  199  f.  ^A  Primer  of  Psychology, 
1907,   p.   125   f. 


152  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

Finally,  the  answers  would  indicate,  what  is  the 
fact,  that  the  tactual,  olfactory,  gustatory,  thermal, 
and  pain  images  of  question  groups  four  to  eight 
(Seashore's  list)  are  comparatively  infrequent,  and 
that  the  number  of  persons  who  experience  any  of 
them  is  relatively  small. 

The  student  may  have  observed  that  so  far  our 
study  in  this  section  has  pertained  mainly  to  the 
imagery  of  concrete  objects  and  their  attributes. 
We  have  now  to  speak  briefly  of  — 

Symbol  Imagery.  —  The  student  of  the  pure  sci- 
ences —  mathematics,  astronomy,  physics,  for  ex- 
ample —  is  required  to  think  about  the  various 
phases  of  his  subject  by  means  of  symbols  appro- 
priate thereto.  His  memory  of  the  facts  and  laws 
of  his  science  consists  in  large  measure  of  a  store  of 
signs,  symbols  and  formulae;  and  his  increasing 
proficiency  consists  partly  in  increasing  facility  in 
manipulating  the  symbols  of  his  particular  field  of 
study.  Moreover,  it  is  frequently  remarked  that 
the  highest  success  in  the  pursuit  of  the  abstract 
sciences  requires  that  the  ordinary  forms  of  imagery 
shall  be  subordinated  to  practice  in  marshalling  the 
symbols  of  these  disciplines,  that  a  stream  of  con- 
crete imagery  is  a  hindrance  rather  than  a  help. 
One  of  the  'notable  results'  of  Galton's  investigation 
was  that  'scientific  men,  as  a  class,  have  feeble 
powers  of  visual  representation',  from  which  Gal- 
ton  concludes  that  *an  over-ready  perception  of  sharp 
mental  pictures  is  antagonistic  to  the  acquirement 
of  habits  of  highly  generalized  and  abstract  thought.' 


MENTAL   IMAGES  153 

It  is  clear,  however,  that  comparatively  few  per- 
sons employ  in  their  remembering,  imagining, 
thinking,  planning,  the  special  forms  of  symbolic 
imagery,  such  as  are  employed  by  the  man  of 
science.  The  most  common  form  is  the  verbal, 
which,  in  Stout's  opinion,  'plays  a  leading  part  in 
the  mental  life  of  most  of  us'.  In  some  of  us,  he 
writes,  'such  verbal  images  are  almost  exclusively 
used.'  To  the  same  effect  Calkins  says,  "Contrasted 
with  all  these  classes  of  concrete  imagination  [of 
panoramas,  dinner-parties,  concerts,  etc.]  are  the 
verbal  types,  which  are  far  more  prevalent  than  any 
one,  save  the  psychologist,  realizes.  In  the  expe- 
rience of  many  people,  these  altogether  crowd  out 
concrete  imaginings."  At  all  events,  we  are  well 
within  the  bounds  when  we  say  that  the  imagery 
of  educated  adults  consists  to  a  considerable  extent 
of  word  images.  Thus,  in  order  to  think  of  trees 
and  their  properties,  it  is  sufficient,  ordinarily,  to 
have  some  sort  of  image  of  the  descriptive  words  we 
use.  We  know  that  trees  are  leaved  in  summer  and 
bare  in  winter ;  but  in  order  to  know  this,  we  do  not 
need  to  picture  either  their  summer  leafiness  or 
their  winter  barrenness.  We  know  that  leaves  rus- 
tle in  the  wind  and  that  the  bark  of  oaks  is  rough, 
but  we  do  not  need  to  image  the  rustling  or  'feel' 
the  roughness.  Again,  when  you  recall  the  persons 
whom  you  have  met  or  the  places  you  have  visited, 
in  the  course  of  a  day,  it  is  sufficient  to  recall  their 
names,  though  doubtless,  for  most  of  us,  there  is  an 
accompaniment  of  concrete  imagery,  images  of  the 
persons'  appearance,  dress,  gesticulation,  voices,  or 


154  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

of  the  size,  form,  contents,  decorations  of  the  build- 
ings, offices,  rooms,  shops  that  were  visited.  In  like 
manner,  when  we  plan  some  future  action,  say  a 
visit  to  a  friend's  house,  we  employ  words  to  out- 
line our  plan  rather  than  imagery  of  the  streets  and 
roads  we  intend  to  follow,  or  of  our  friend's  house, 
or  of  his  greeting,  or  of  the  persons  we  shall  meet 
on  our  arrival.  In  short,  our  ordinary  daily  think- 
ing, remembering,  planning,  is  made  up  in  large 
part  of  the  images  of  words  that  suffice  to  designate 
our  subjects  of  thought,  the  things  with  which,  for 
the  time  being,  we  are  concerned. 

In  reference  to  the  advantages  of  words  over  concrete 
imagery  as  mental  tools,  James  writes,  "In  fact,  we  may 
suspect  them  [words]  to  be  for  most  purposes  better  than 
terms  with  a  rich,  imaginative  coloring.  The  scheme  of 
relationship  and  the  conclusion  being  the  essential  things  in 
thinking,  that  kind  of  mind-stuff  which  is  handiest  will  be 
the  best  for  the  purpose.  Now  words,  uttered  or  unex- 
pressed, are  the  handiest  mental  elements  that  we  have".  ^ 

The  declaration  that  words  constitute  the  best,  the  most 
convenient,  instruments  of  thinking  will  raise  doubts  in  the 
minds  of  those  who  have  not  given  the  matter  careful  con- 
sideration. Indeed,  'thinking'  for  most  persons  consists 
mainly  of  trains  of  concrete  imagery;  their  thoughts  would 
be  pale  and  sparse  if  they  were  bereft  of  these.  Neverthe- 
less Galton  and  James  are  right  in  maintaining  that,  for 
purposes  of  abstract  thinking,  vivid  concrete  imagery  is  a 
hindrance;    bare  symbols  are  its  best  instruments. 

The  Kinds  of  Verbal  Imagery.  —  We  have  seen  in 
the  preceding  paragraphs  that  as  regards  their  pre- 
dominant forms   of  imagery,   individuals   may  be 


1  Principles  of  Psychology,   I,  p.   266. 


MENTAL   IMAGES  155 

classified  broadly  as  visuals,  audiles,  motiles,  and 
mixed.  Now  the  same  classification  holds  in  refer- 
ence to  the  characteristic  modes  of  imaging  words. 
Thus  the  verbal  imagery  of  one  class  of  persons  is 
predominantly  visual ;  of  another,  it  is  chiefly  audi- 
tory ;  of  a  third,  kinsesthetic ;  while  that  of  a  fourth 
class  of  persons  is  described  as  'mixed'. 

Visual.  —  It  requires  only  ordinary  powers  of 
verbal  visualization  to  image  a  few  words  or  sen- 
tences or  even  a  short  paragraph.  If,  however,  one 
is  highly  gifted  in  this  respect,  whole  pages  of 
printed  or  written  matter  may,  on  occasion,  unroll 
before  the  mind's  eye.  Galton,  in  the  report  already 
quoted,  says :  "I  have  many  cases  of  persons  men- 
tally reading  ofl"  scores  when  playing  the  piano-forte, 
or  manuscript  when  they  are  making  speeches.  One 
statesman  has  assured  me  that  a  certain  hesitation 
in  utterance  which  he  has  at  times  is  due  to  his 
being  plagued  by  the  image  of  his  manuscript 
speech  with  its  original  erasures  and  corrections. 

Some  few  persons  see  mentally  in 

print  every  word  that  is  uttered ;  they  attend  to  the 
visual  equivalent  and  not  to  the  sound  of  the 
words. "^  The  writer  once  knew  a  student  who 
could  'read  off"  an  entire  Act  of  Julius  Caesar  as- 
well  as  if  the  book  which  he  had  used  in  memorizing 
the  play  lay  open  before  him. 

Auditory. —  One  may  also  imagine  words  as  heard. 
The  words  imaged  may  be  those  spoken  by  oneself 


'  Galton,   Inquiries   into   Human   Faculty    and  its   Development. 


156  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

or  by  others,  they  may  be  the  words  of  a  conversa- 
tion to  which  one  has  listened,  or  the  questions  and 
answers  of  attorney  and  witness  in  a  court-room, 
or  the  words  spoken  by  actors,  with  characteristic 
modulation,  in  reading  their  lines  in  a  play.  Cal- 
kins observes  that,  "Such  masters  of  musical  verse 
as  Sophokles,  Tennyson,  and  Swinburne  must  have 
auditory  verbal  imagery." 

Kinaesthetic.  —  "Most  persons,"  says  James,  "on 
being  asked  in  what  sort  of  terms  they  imagine 
words,  will  say,  'in  terms  of  hearing.'  It  is  not  until 
their  attention  is  expressly  drawn  to  the  point  that 
they  find  it  difficult  to  say  whether  auditory  images 
or  motor  images  connected  with  the  organs  of  artic- 
ulation predominate.  A  good  way  of  bringing  the 
difficulty  to  consciousness  is  that  proposed  by 
Strieker,  [whose  verbal  imagery  consisted,  accord- 
ing to  his  own  account,  exclusively  of  articulatory 
images]  :  Partly  open  your  mouth  and  then  imag- 
ine any  word  with  labials  or  dentals  in  it,  such  as 
'bubble',  'toddle',  (puddle).  Is  your  image  under 
these  conditions  distinct?  To  most  people  the  image 
is  at  first  'thick',  as  the  sound  of  the  word  would 
be  if  they  tried  to  pronounce  it  with  the  lips  parted. 
Many  can  never  imagine  the  words  clearly  with 
the  mouth  open;  others  succeed  after  a  few  pre- 
liminary trials."^  Experiments  of  this  sort  show 
that  in  our  verbal  imagery  the  motor,  or  kinaes- 

1  James  here  refers,  doubtless,  to  the  motor  images  of  words, 
since  the  open  mouth  is  not  a  hindrance  to  the  formation  of  visual 
or  auditory  verbal  images,  at  any  rate  not  in  the  present  writer's 
experience. 


MENTAL  IMAGES  157 

thetic,  factor  plays  an  important,  though  usually 
unobserved  part.^ 

Mixed. —  A  person  whose  verbal  imagery  is  of  the 
mixed  type  is  able  either  to  see  or  hear  or  'feel' 
words  in  imagination  as  inclination  prompts  or 
occasion  requires ;  but,  as  in  the  case  of  concrete 
imagerj^  some  one  form  of  verbal  imagery  usually 
predominates  in  the  individual  experience. 

One  general  observation  concerning  the  verbal 
imaginal  types  seems  warranted,  namely,  that  there 
is  a  stronger  tendency  to  the  concurrence,  in  indi- 
vidual experience,  of  two  or  more  forms  of  verbal 
imagery  than  there  is  in  the  imagery  of  concrete 
objects  or  situations.  Thus  one's  general  imaginal 
type  may  be  unmistakably  visual,  while  one's  images 
of  words  may  readily  occur  in  any  one  of  the  three 
forms  already  described.  This  is  probably  due  to 
the  fact  that  we  are  constantly  experiencing  words 
in  varied  ways ;  we  are  all  the  while  reading 
or  hearing  or  speaking  or  writing  words,  and  it  is 
but  natural  that  our  imagery  of  them  should  reflect, 
in  some  measure,  our  immediate,  everyday  expe- 
rience with  them. 

The  Attributes  of  Characteristic  Images  Differ.  — 
In  the  immediately  preceding  sections  we  have  been 
studying  the  ways  in  which  individuals  difl^er  in 
respect  to  their  dominant  or  favorite  kinds  of 
imagery.  It  remains  to  make  a  little  clearer,  than 
has  been  done  hitherto,  that  individuals  differ  in 


1  Titchener  thinks  it  improbable  that  in  verbal  imapery  the  au- 
ditory-kinaesthetic  elements  occur  separately,  'although  the  emphasis 
may  be  preponderantly  upon  the  one  or  the  other.' 


158  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

reference  to  the  vividness,  distinctness,  clearness, 
and  so  on,  of  their  characteristic  images. 

Vividness. —  Galton,  in  his  pioneer  work,  was  con- 
cerned chiefly  with  the  variations  in  the  'vividness' 
of  the  imagery  of  different  persons,  although  he 
did  not  sharply  distinguish  this  attribute  from  cer- 
tain others.  That  this  was  his  chief  concern  is  indi- 
cated by  the  fact  that  the  great  majority  of  his 
'Questions  on  Visualizing  and  other  allied  Faculties' 
were  in  reference  to  this  property,  and  also  by  his 
arrangement  of  the  replies  to  the  questions  pertain- 
ing to  the  visualization  of  the  breakfast  table  in  a 
scale  of  nine  degrees  of  'vividness'.  Moreover,  ex- 
cepting kind,  or  quality,  most  of  the  studies  of  indi- 
vidual variations  in  imagery  that  have  been  made 
subsequently  have  related,  mainly,  to  variations  in 
vividness.  Such  questions  as  —  Can  you  image  the 
color  of  a  yellow  ribbon?  the  tone-quality  of  a  given 
musical  instrument?  the  pressure  of  velvet?  usually 
mean :  Are  your  images  of  these  things  vivid,  life- 
like? Seashore's  chapter  on  "Mental  Images"  like- 
wise reflects  the  dominant  interest.  In  it  he  directs 
the  student  to  fix  clearly  in  mind  the  following  scale 
in  testing  'the  capacity  for  vividness  of  imagery:' 

0.  No  imagery  at  all. 

1.  Very  faint. 

2.  Faint. 

3.  Fairly  vivid. 

4.  Vivid. 

5.  Very  vivid. 

6.  As  vivid  as  in  perception. 


MENTAL  IMAGES  159 

It  is  clear,  however,  as  Seashore  says,  that  "such 
factors  [attributes]  as  vividness,  stability,  and  in- 
tegrity of  the  image  do  not  necessarily  vary  to- 
gether. An  image  may  be  very  vivid,  but  flitting; 
it  may  be  complete,  but  faint."  Accordingly,  a  com- 
plete study  of  an  individual's  imagery  would  in- 
clude, besides  the  enumeration  of  its  several  kinds, 
the  careful  discrimination  of  the  latter's  attributes, 
and  their  gradation  according  to  some  such  scale  as 
that  employed  by  Galton  or  Seashore  in  studying 
vividness. 

Distinctness.  —  The  following  may  serve  as  ex- 
amples of  questions  designed  to  draw  special  atten- 
tion to  the  attribute  of  distinctness :  Is  your  image 
of  the  tone-quality  of  a  banjo  perfectly  distinct 
from  that  of  a  guitar?  Do  you  tend  to  confuse  the 
visual  images  of  one  face  with  that  of  another  which 
resembles  the  first?  Is  your  image  of  the  smooth- 
ness to  'touch'  of  silk  clearly  different  from  your 
image  of  the  smoothness  of  glass?  Again,  do  you 
image  distinctly  the  several  parts  or  features  of  a 
photograph?  or  of  a  wall-paper  pattern?  or  of  a 
strain  of  music?  or  the  taste  ingredients  of  an 
article  of  food? 

Stability.  —  Individuals  differ  also  as  regards  the 
stability  of  their  images.  Some  observers  report 
that  their  characteristic  images  are  stable,  endur- 
ing, easily  controlled;  others,  that  theirs  are  tran- 
sient, fluctuating,  capricious. 

Completeness  and  Accuracy.  —  If  an  image  repre- 
sents all  the  separate  items  of  an  original  expe- 
rience, it  is  said  to  be  complete ;  if  it  does  not  repre- 


160  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

sent  all  these  separate  items,  it  is  incomplete.  Ac- 
curacy refers  to  the  fidelity  with  which  an  image 
copies  a  sensory  or  perceptual  experience,  to  the 
absence  of  foreign  elements  in  the  'structure  of  the 
image'.  Needless  to  say,  individuals  differ  in  re- 
spect to  the  degree  to  which  their  images  approach 
completeness  and  accuracy. 

REFEBGNCES 

Angell:   Psychology,  Ch.  VIII. 
Colvin:  The  Learning  Process,  VII. 

Galton:    Inquiries   into    Human    Faculty   and    its   Develop- 
ment. 
James:   Principles  of  Psychology,  Vol.  II,  Ch.  XVIII. 
Seashore:   Elementary  Experiments  in  Psychology,  Ch.  IX. 
Stout:  A  Manual  of  Psychology,  Book  IV,  Ch.  I. 
Titchener:   A  Text-Book  of  Psychology,  §§  105-120. 


CHAPTER  VII 
ATTENTION 

The  Nature  of  Attention.  —  Attention,  perhaps 
more  than  any  other  topic  in  the  whole  field  of 
psychology,  is  overrun  with  metaphors.  We  read 
of  attention  that  wanders,  flits  hither  and  thither, 
or  —  lingers,  pauses,  hovers  over  its  object;  of 
attention  that  is  drawn,  lured,  commanded,  at- 
tracted, fascinated,  captured,  or  —  is  repelled, 
diverted,  distracted,  freed.  Attention  is  often  de- 
scribed as  concentrated,  focused,  or  as  scattered, 
diffused,  spread-out,  dispersed.  Again,  attention 
selects  and  seizes  objects  and  lets  them  go  again. 
In  still  other  instances,  it  is  directed  toward  or 
aimed  at  given  objects  which  it  illuminates.  In 
popular  speech  it  is  also  either  weak  or  powerful, 
waking  or  slumbering,  continuous  or  intermittent, 
prolonged  or  transitory,  spasmodic  or  regular,  alert 
or  sluggish,  and  so  on.  It  would  be  easy  to  select 
from  the  current  psychological  literature  several 
such  pages  illustrating  the  figurative  terms  in  which 
our  thinking  concerning  attention  is  cast;  the  fore- 
going examples  will  suffice. 

Now  these  and  similar  everyday  expressions  de- 
scribe roughly  certain  facts  of  our  mental  life; 
otherwise  they  would  not  have  gained  such  wide- 
spread acceptance.     Moreover,  it  must  be  admitted 

11  (161) 


162  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

at  once  that  it  is  well-nigh  impossible  to  speak  of 
'attention'  at  all,  even  in  a  scientific  treatment  of 
the  topic,  without  employing  them.  And  yet,  for 
certain  reasons  which  will  be  stated  in  later  par- 
agraphs (p.  181  ff.),  psychology  must  set  aside  the 
figurative  accounts,  and  ask  what,  in  fact,  attention 
is.  When  we  do  this,  and  when  we  adhere  closely 
to  the  work  of  describing  consciousness,  and  ask 
ourselves  what  general  fact  or  characteristic  of  our 
mental  life  is  named  by  the  term  attention,  we 
answer  —  the  fact  of  mental  clearness.  Attention 
is  a  general  or  class  name  for  all  clear  conscious- 
nesses. Whence  it  follows  that  the  term,  when  used 
to  designate  a  particular  fact  of  consciousness, 
means  a  clear  consciousness ;  a  case  of  attention  is 
a  case  of  mental  clearness. 

The  term  'attention'  implies  that  a  typical  'field'  of  con- 
sciousness consists  of  a  central,  relatively  clear,  area  and  an 
outlying,  obscure  area.  In  this  case,  'attention'  when  used 
in  reference  to  a  given  consciousness,  means  that  it  is  focal, 
is  in  the  center  of  the  field. 

It  may  be  remarked  that  'attention'  is  often  used  synon- 
ymously with  'mental  activity',  especially  when  the  activity 
is  conceived  to  be  of  an  intensive  sort.  For  instance,  every 
case  of  intensive,  restricted  perceptional  activity  is  a  case  of 
'attention'.  Thus,  to  'attend  to'  the  features  of  a  drawing 
or  a  landscape,  or  to  the  separate  voices  in  a  chorus,  is  to 
'look'  carefully,  intently,  in  the  one  case,  and  listen,  in  the 
other.  Thinking  and  imagining,  as  forms  of  mental  activity, 
are  also  cases  of  attention.  Thus,  to  compare,  to  analyze, 
to  weigh,  to  think  about,  two  possible  courses  of  action  is  to 
'attend'  to  them.  Every  case  of  mental  activity  is,  from  this 
point  of  view,  a  case  of  attention.     Observe  next  that  it  is 


ATTENTION  163 

not  difficult  to  translate  'attention  is  mental  activity'  into 
'attention  is  mental  clearness',  since  one's  meaning  is  the 
same  whether  one  says,  'I  am  attending  to  the  object'  or  'my 
consciousness  of  the  object  is  central,  focal,  clear.' 

The  Conditions  of  Attention.  —  By  the  'conditions' 
of  attention,  or  mental  clearness,  we  shall  mean  the 
circumstances  which  favor  the  appearance  of  clear 
consciousnesses.  Thus  we  may  ask  what  circum- 
stances favor  clear  perceptions  of  present  objects, 
their  properties  and  conditions,  on  the  one  hand,  or 
clear  images  of  past  or  future  events,  on  the  other. 
Or,  from  a  slightly  different  point  of  view,  we  may 
inquire  why,  at  a  given  moment  in  individual  expe- 
rience, one  conscious  process,  rather  than  any  other 
possible  one,  should  occupy  the  center  of  the  con- 
scious field,  the  area  of  greatest  clearness.  It  is 
evident  that  a  complete  answer  to  the  latter  ques- 
tion involves,  besides  an  enumeration  of  the  primary 
conditions  of  attention,  also  a  statement  of  their 
inter-relations. 

It  is  customary  to  distinguish  broadly  two  classes 
of  conditions  of  attention :  the  objective,  or  external, 
and  the  subjective,  or  internal.  The  term  objective, 
or  external,  refers  to  the  circumstances  outside  the 
stream  of  consciousness  which  favor  attention ;  the 
term  subjective,  or  internal,  refers  to  those  charac- 
teristics of  the  individual's  present  or  past  mental 
life  which  favor  attention. 

It  should  be  remembered  that  when  a  given  condition  is 
said  to  favor  attention  the  statement  holds  unless  some  other 
condition  or  conditions  arise  to  counteract  the  influence  of 
the  first. 


164  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

The  Objective  Conditions  of  Attention.  —  Most 
conspicuous  among  the  objective  conditions  of  atten- 
tion are  certain  properties  of_sensory  stimuli.  Other 
things  equal,  a  stimulus  that  is  intense  or  prolonged 
or  novel  or  frequently  repeated  or  sudden  in  appear- 
ance or  that  changes  in  character,  in  size,  in  position, 
or  in  intensity,  is  likely  to  'attract'  attention,  or,  in 
our  terms,  to  excite  a  clear  consciousness.  Thus, 
bright  lights,  loud  sounds,  strong  odors,  smart 
blows,  are  said  to  force  themselves  upon  our  atten- 
tion. The  consciousness  which  they  arouse  imme- 
diately becomes  focal,  clear.  —  The  prolongation  of 
the  locomotive's  whistling  at  crossings,  the  continual 
clatter  of  the  fire-engine  as  it  rushes  along  the  street, 
the  alarm  clock  set  to  ring  for  sixty  seconds,  are 
practical  applications  of  the  observation  that  pro- 
longed stimuli  excite  attention.  —  Novelties  of  all 
kinds  are  notoriously  attractive.  Other  things  equal, 
novel  sights  and  sounds,  strange  objects,  new  expe- 
riences easily  'catch'  the  attention.  The  notice 
which  a  stranger,  or  a  new  kind  of  vehicle,  or  even 
a  new  dog,  in  the  community  attracts  are  familiar 
instances  of  the  influence  of  novelty.  —  Impressions 
frequently  repeated,  even  though  they  lack  other 
exciting  qualities,  are  likely  to  arrest  attention. 
Witness  the  results  that  the  persevering  advertiser 
obtains  from  comparatively  stupid  advertisements; 
witness  also  the  diligence  which  the  aspirant  to 
political  honors  shows  in  keeping  his  name  before 
the  public.  —  Suddenness  in  the  appearance  of  sens- 
ory impressions,  if  unexpected,  like  a  flash  of  light 


ATTENTION  165 

in  the  darkness,  or  the  sharp  crackling  of  one's 
study-fire,  or  a  sudden  call  from  an  unexpected 
quarter,  is  one  of  the  most  familiar  of  their  inher- 
ently exciting  qualities. 

Objects  that  show  changes  are  likely  to  catch 
attention.  These  changes  may  be  either  in  the 
nature  or  size  or  position  of  the  object,  or  in  the 
intensity  of  the  impression  which  it  arouses.  For 
example,  a  blue  signal  replaced  by  a  red  one  attracts 
the  attention  of  the  pilot  or  engine  man ;  the  small 
boy  observes  at  once  any  marked  variations  in  the 
size  of  his  daily  allowance  of  favorite  foods ;  and  the 
fact  that  moving  objects  attract  attention  is  too 
well  known  to  require  illustration.  Change  in  the 
intensity  of  a  previously  unobserved  sensory  stim- 
ulus, whether  visual,  auditory,  olfactory,  or  what 
not,  particularly  if  sudden,  tends  to  draw  attention 
to  the  exciting  object. 

Two  other  classes  of  changes  should  be  men- 
tioned in  this  connection.  (1)  It  is  well  known  that 
we  are  unobservant  of  the  permanent,  unchanging 
features  of  our  daily  surroundings.  The  articles 
of  furniture  in  our  homes,  the  buildings  and  trees 
along  the  streets  that  we  travel  over  daily,  the  noise 
of  street  traffic,  the  familiar  voices  of  people  talk- 
ing, the  puffing  of  distant  locomotives  or  the  rumble 
of  trains  drawn  thereby,  even  pains  that  are  with 
us  constantly,  all  cease  in  time  to  attract  attention. 
But  changes  in  our  customary  surroundings,  for  ex- 
ample, a  rearrangement  of  the  furniture  or  of  the 
decorations  of  our  study,  are  noticed  at  once.    And 


166  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

the  obtrusiveness,  or  aggressiveness,  of  such  a  thing 
as  a  shrill  whistle,  or  the  vicious  barking  of  a  dog, 
or  of  a  shooting  pain,  although  due  in  part  to  cer- 
tain characteristics  of  the  stimulus  itself,  e.  g.,  its 
inherent  intensity  or  the  suddenness  of  its  appear- 
ance, is  also  due  partly  to  the  fact  that  such  stimuli 
produce  a  change  in  the  total  effect  of  the  sensory 
impressions  to  which  we  are  accustomed. 

(2)  Changes  in  the  total  situations  to  which  we 
are  from  time  to  time  temporarily  adjusted,  or  im- 
pressions that  are  incongruous  therewith,  excite 
attention.  For  example,  the  passengers  on  an  ocean 
liner,  accustomed  to  the  splashing  of  waves,  the 
creaking  of  beams,  the  whistles  and  bells  of  the 
boat,  the  whir  of  the  propellers,  human  voices,  are 
startled  when  they  for  the  first  time  hear  the  cow- 
like bellowing  of  a  siren  or  buoy.  The  sound  at- 
tracts attention  because  of  its  sheer  incongruity 
with  the  surroundings  to  which  the  passengers  have 
become  so  quickly  adjusted;  on  land,  the  sound 
would  likely  pass  unobserved. 

The  Subjective  Conditions  of  Attention.  —  It  is 
not  easy  to  draw  a  sharp  line  between  the  objective 
and  the  subjective  conditions  of  attention,  since 
many  objects,  catch  the  attention,  by  virtue  of  con- 
ditions, some  of  which  are  subjective  and  some  ob- 
jective. For  example,  shall  we  say  that  at  a  public 
gathering  a  disturbance  in  the  gallery  attracts  our 
attention  because  it  interrupts  our  listening  to  the 
speaker's  words  or  because  of  some  quality  of  the 
disturbance  itself?  perhaps  on  both  accounts.  So 
of  many  other  stimuli:   they  excite  attention   on 


ATTENTION  167 

account  of  both  their  physical  properties  and  be- 
cause they  interrupt  or  favor  the  trend  of  one's 
consciousness.  And  it  is  especially  difficult  to  dis- 
tinguish the  subjective  and  the  objective  conditions 
of  attention  in  respect  to  objects  that  are  natively, 
or  instinctively,  interesting.  For  example,  novelty, 
which  we  have  classed  among  the  objective  condi- 
tions of  attention,  clearly  belongs,  from  another 
point  of  view,  to  the  subjective  group;  we  naturally, 
instinctively,  attend  to  novel  things.  Still,  it  is 
possible  to  enumerate  a  number  of  conditions  of 
attention  that  are  primarily  subjective,  belong  to 
the  observer's  present  consciousness  or  to  his  habit- 
ual mental  trend. 

The  most  general  subjective  condition  of  attention 
is  mental  wakefulness.  When  we  are  mentally  alert, 
wide  awake,  mental  processes  easily  attain  clear- 
ness; whereas,  if  we  are  lethargic,  drowsy,  the 
components  of  the  conscious  stream  tend  to  run  on 
a  dead  level  of  dullness ;  nothing  is  prominent,  clear. 

A  second  subjective  condition  which  favors  atten- 
tion is  the  possession  of  an  image  or  idea  of  the 
forthcoming  object;  and  this  depends  upon  our 
having  experienced  it  or  its  like  on  some  earlier 
occasion.  More  popularly  stated,  the  rule  is  that 
we  can  attend  more  easily,  more  readily,  to  a  com- 
ing object  if  we  know  beforehand  what  sort  of 
thing  to  expect.  The  teacher  of  biology  does  not 
rest  with  directing  his  students  to  go  forth  and 
study  amoebae  and  spirogyra;  he  knows  that  they 
must  have  at  least  a  rough  provisional  mental  prep- 
aration for  finding  and  studying  the  specimens,  so 


168  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

he  first  tells  them  what  sort  of  things  they  are.  In 
these  and  similar  cases  the  mind  is  said  to  be  pre- 
pared to  apperceive,  to  attend  to,  the  object  when 
it  is  presented  to  sense.  In  short,  attention  to  an 
object  is  facilitated  if  we  have  an  anticipatory  image 
or  idea  thereof  or  of  objects  similar  thereto. 

Perhaps  most  persons,  if  asked,  what  is  the  most 
important  subjective  condition  of  attention?  would 
say,  the  will,  purpose,  or  desire,  to  attend.  And 
undoubtedly  the  cases  of  attention  most  frequently 
remarked  originate  in  this  way.  We  'will'  to  attend 
in  the  face  of  distracting  impressions  to  a  given 
object  of  theoretical  or  practical  interest;  for  ex- 
ample, to  the  meaning  of  a  difficult  paragraph  and 
to  become  deaf  to  distracting  noises ;  or,  in  pitching 
ball,  to  attend  to  the  manipulation  of  the  ball  and 
to  disregard  the  jeers  from  the  bleachers.  Now, 
the  will  or  purpose  to  attend,  as  Pillsbury  points 
out,  'shows  three  degrees  of  consciousness'.  Some- 
times the  purpose  controlling  attention  is  very  defin- 
itely present.  Thus,  to  use  Pillsbury's  example,  if 
one  is  shown  for  an  instant  a  few  bits  of  paper  of 
different  shapes  and  colors  and  is  asked  at  the  same 
time,  —  what  colors  do  you  see?  one  is  able  after- 
ward to  tell  pretty  accurately  what  colors  were 
shown,  but  can  tell  little  about  their  shapes.  The 
question  limited  and  defined  the  purpose  of  the 
moment  and  so  the  number  of  items  that  could  attain 
clearness.  At  other  times,  the  purpose,  while  pres- 
ent and  operative,  is  less  definitely  conscious  than 
when  it  is  aroused  by  a  definite  question,  as  in  the 
case  just  cited.    Thus  one  gathers  up  the  news  items 


ATTENTION  169 

in  the  daily  paper,  but  does  not  observe  the  size  of 
the  type  or  the  number  of  columns  on  the  page;  or 
one  visits  a  picture  gallery  and  brings  away  images 
and  thoughts  concerning  the  pictures,  but  knows 
nothing  of  the  construction  of  doors,  windows,  or 
floors.  The  general  purpose,  though  only  vaguely 
conscious,  included  in  the  one  case  the  news  of  the 
day,  but  not  the  type  and  paper  columns ;  in  the  sec- 
ond, it  included  an  appreciation  of  the  pictures,  but 
not  an  inspection  of  the  construction  of  the  building. 
In  other  cases,  the  purpose  falls  within  the  scope  of 
one's  fixed  mental  habits  and  is  even  less  definitely 
conscious  than  in  the  cases  just  cited.  Illustrations 
are  found  in  what  we  call  the  observational  habits 
of  the  professional  or  business  man.  We  say  one 
naturally  attends,  and  without  being  aware  of  it, 
to  matters  that  pertain  to  one's  trade  or  profession. 
The  physician  observes  disease  symptoms,  the  bot- 
anist observes  plants,  the  -farmer,  crops  and  live- 
stock, the  architect,'  carpenter,  or  mason  the  features 
of  building  construction,  the  cook,  the  ingredients 
of  foods,  even  in  the  complete  absence  of  a  definite 
purpose  to  do  so.  Attention  is  determined,  in  such 
cases,  by  the  observer's  bias,  mental  bent,  the 
habitual  trend  of  his  thinking. 

The  influence  of  trend  or  general  purpose  in  determining 
the  objects  of  one's  attention  is  illustrated  in  the  case  of  a 
young  student  in  a  dramatic  school  whom  the  writer  chances 
to  know.  This  particular  student,  for  certain  personal  rea- 
sons, has  elected  to  play  the  'old  man'  parts,  and  in  prepar- 
ation for  his  work  gives  a  great  deal  of  attention  to  observing 
the  manners,  speech,  and  mental  traits  of  aged  men.     The 


170  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

trend  of  his  purposive  attention  lies  along  this  line.  Ac- 
cordingly, he  sees  and  observes  every  elderly  man  while 
other  persons  escape  his  notice. 

To  summarize:  the  subjective  conditions  of  atten- 
tion are  (1)  mental  alertness,  (2)  the  possession 
of  an  image  or  an  idea  of  the  forthcoming  object, 
(3)  the  purpose,  or  will,  to  attend,  which  may  exist 
in  varying  degrees  of  clearness  and  definiteness. 

The  Motor  Concomitants  of  Attention.—  The  every- 
day expressions,  'attentive  attitude',  'strained  atten- 
tion', 'fascinated  attention',  'brown  study',  and  so 
on,  refer  pretty  definitely  to  the  motor  concomitants 
of  attentive  states. 

Some  of  these  motor  changes  are  characteristic 
of  attention  to  sense  objects;  others  belong  rather 
to  the  imaginal  and  thought  processes.  It  is,  there- 
fore, convenient  for  purposes  of  description  to  dis- 
tinguish, (1)  the  motor  concomitants  of  sensory 
attention,  and  (2)  the  motor  concomitants  of  idea- 
tional attention. 

One  may  also  distinguish  rather  easily  the  motor 
concomitants  of  sensory  attention,  according  to  the 
immediacy  with  which  they  subserve  the  attentional 
consciousness,  as  either  (a)  accommodatory,  adap- 
tive, or  (b)  inhibitory. 

The  general  and  immediate  purpose  of  the  accom- 
modatory, or  adaptive,  movements  is,  as  the  name 
implies,  to  bring  the  sense  organs  into  those  rela- 
tions to  stimuli  that  are  most  favorable  for  the 


ATTENTION  171 

reception  of  clear  and  distinct  impressions.  Thus, 
in  looking  attentively,  the  head  and  eyes  are  ordi- 
narily turned  toward  the  object,  the  two  eyes  con- 
verge so  that  the  stimulus  will  fall  upon  the  fovea 
of  each,  the  most  sensitive  spot  of  the  retina,  and 
the  lens  is  adjusted  to  the  distance  of  the  object.  In 
listening  attentively,  the  whole  body  tends  to  lean 
toward  the  source  of  the  sound,  or  at  least  we  turn 
the  sharper  ear  in  that  direction.  In  painstaking 
'touch',  as  when  trying  to  determine  the  quality  of 
a  piece  of  cloth,  or  the  smoothness  of  a  surface,  we 
work  over  the  articles  with  the  hands  and  fingers. 
In  trying  to  determine  the  taste  of  a  substance,  we 
move  the  tongue  so  as  to  stimulate  the  most  sensi- 
tive taste  organs;  and  in  order  to  get  the  clearest 
olfactory  impressions  we  deflect  the  air  currents  up- 
ward to  the  olfactory  area  in  the  upper  nasal  cavity. 
Besides  these  movements  which  serve  immedi- 
ately to  adjust  the  sense-organs  for  the  most 
favorable  reception  of  stimuli,  certain  others  sub- 
serve the  functioning  of  the  sense-organs  indirectly 
by  shutting  out  irrelevant  or  distracting  stimuli; 
these  latter  are  called  inhibitory  movements.  The 
most  easily  observed  inhibitory  movements  are  — 
the  cessation  of  bodily  movements  when  looking  or 
listening  intently.  Thus,  if  one  is  walking,  the  pace 
is  slackened,  or  one  even  comes  to  a  stand-still  in 
order  to  listen  to  a  faint  sound.  Breathing  is  also 
affected  in  all  cases  of  wrapt  attention  to  sensory 
stimuli;  the  rate  of  breathing  is  lower  and  the  in- 


172  ELEMENTS   OF  PSYCHOLOGY 

halations  are  not  so  deep,  whence  comes  the  expres- 
sion, 'breathless  attention'.  Further,  one  may  fre- 
quently observe  that  in  listening,  touching,  tasting, 
or  smelling  attentively,  the  eyes  are  closed  as  if  to 
exclude  distracting  stimuli. 

The  motor  concomitants  of  ideational  attention  — 
attention  to  images,  ideas,  thoughts  —  though  less 
conspicuous  than  those  of  sensory  attention,  are 
easily  observed  when  they  are  once  pointed  out. 
In  visual  imagery  the  eyes  often  repeat  the  move- 
ments of  actually  looking  at  the  imaged  object.  If 
one  is  imaging  a  high  building  or  a  mountain  range 
the  eyes  tend  to  move  up  and  down,  right  and  left, 
as  the  image  develops;  or  if  the  image  is  of  some- 
thing spread  out  in  space,  like  a  large  painting  or  a 
college  campus,  the  eyes  also  tend  to  move  over  the 
imaged  area.  This  often  involves,  besides  the  move- 
ments of  the  eyes,  actual  or  incipient  movements  of 
the  head  or  of  the  whole  body.  Again,  in  trying  to 
image  sounds  one  may  detect  muscular  tension  in 
the  region  of  the  ears;  in  imaging  tastes,  moving 
the  tongue  and  mouth  parts  facilitates  the  arousal 
of  the  taste  image ;  olfactory  imagery  almost  inevit- 
ably involves  slight  inhalation,  as  if  to  bring  the 
odorous  particles  nearer  the  olfactory  surface;  and 
in  tactual  imagery  one  may  easily  find  muscular 
twitching  and  tension  in  the  fingers  and  hand.  In 
fact^t  is  doub™k  whether  one  can  form  clear  and 
distinct  tactuaflmiages  if  these  muscular  tremors 
are  inhibited.     In  many  of  these  cases  of  imaging, 


ATTENTION  173 

the  muscular  actions  present  may  be  viewed,  to  use 
Sully's  words,  *as  survivals  or  partial  reproductions 
of  the  motor  concomitants  of  the  original  sensa- 
tions.' 

The  motor  processes  just  enumerated  may  be 
regarded  as  concomitants  of  the  rise  and  develop- 
ment of  clear  images.  Other  mental  activities,  more 
properly  called  thought  processes,  comparing,  judg- 
ing, reasoning,  especially  if  they  pertain  to  new  and 
diffic-ult  topics,  are  usually  marked  by  characteristic 
bodily  attitudes :  e.  g.,  the  whole  body  is  motionless, 
the  head  is  held  in  a  certain  position,  the  jaws  are 
firmly  closed,  breathing  is  shallower,  the  pulse 
undergoes  changes  of  rate  and  strength,  the  eyes 
are  wholly  or  partially  closed. 

The  Sensory  Concomitants  of  Attention.  —  "With 
the  motor  concomitant  phenomena  [of  attention],' 
says  Kiilpe,  'are  conjoined  certain  sensations,  which 
thus  constitute  a  characteristic  factor  in  every 
process  of  attention.  They  are  for  the  most  part 
strain  sensations,  arising  from  the  adaptation  of 
the  sense  organs  and  the  position  of  the  body  or 
limbs;  and  they  are  indicated  in  the  phrases 
'strained  attention',  'intent'  expectation,  and  so  on."' 
(It  is  likely  that  if  Kiilpe  were  revising  his  text,  he 
would  say  strain  sensations  constitute  a  character- 
istic factor  of  'some'  or  'many'  instead  of  'every' 
process  of  attention.)  The  sensations  of  strain, 
tension,  exertion,  though  often  present  in  all  fhree 


>  Outlines  of  Psychology^  §   74,   Titchener's  Translation. 


174  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

'forms'  of  attention,  (voluntary,  involuntary,  non- 
voluntary), are  characteristic  of  voluntary  atten- 
tion, and  give  rise  to  the  popular  but  erroneous 
view  that  this  form  involves  the  consciousness  of 
mental,  or  spiritual,  activity  in  addition  to  the  other 
conscious  factors  of  the  moment. 

The  Degrees  of  Attention.  —  Sensations  and  im- 
ages show  different  degrees  of  clearness.  To  illus- 
trate: suppose  that  at  ten  o'clock  on  a  given  day 
you  settle  down  for  an  hour's  work,  at  the  same 
time  recalling  that  at  eleven  you  are  to  start  to  fill 
an  important  engagement.  You  get  absorbed  in 
your  work  and  think  nothing  more  of  the  engage- 
ment. The  hour  passes,  and  the  clock  begins  to 
strike  eleven.  Now,  under  the  circumstances  de- 
scribed it  is  likely  that  the  first  strokes  of  the  clock 
barely  get  above  the  threshold  of  consciousness; 
you  are  only  dimly  conscious  of  them ;  then  the 
strokes  that  follow  become  clearer  and  clearer  until 
toward  the  end  of  the  series  they  are  at  a  maximum 
of  clearness,  and  monopolize  the  field  of  attention  — 
until  you  think  again  of  your  engagement.  In  de- 
scribing such  an  experience,  we  say  that  the  con- 
sciousness of  the  strokes  rises  by  degrees  from  dim- 
ness to  perfect  clearness,  or  that  'attention  to'  the 
strokes  passes  from  a  minimal  to  a  maximal  degree. 

The  fact  of  variation  in  the  clearness  of  sensa- 
tions and  images  may  be  represented  by  the  accom- 
panying diagram  (Fig.  32),  which  is  a  modification 
of  the  one  employed  by  Titchener  to  represent  the 
two-level  type  of  the  attentive  consciousness.     In 


ATTENTION  175 

the  figure,  the  raised  part  of  the  upper  thin  line 
represents    the    'field    of   attention,'    or    clearness. 

Now,  if  we  think 

r- ,  of    t  hi  s    raised 

part  as  rising  to 
the  levels  indi- 
cated by  the  dot- 
ted lines,  we  shall 
have  a  represen- 
tation of  varia- 
tion in  degree  of 
Fig.  32  clearness,       the 

number  of  lines 
in  each  case  depending  upon  the  number  of  degrees 
of  clearness  in  which  a  given  process  may  exist. 

It  is  popularly  believed  that  the  degree  of  attention  de- 
pends upon  and  varies  with  the  amount  of  muscular  strain, 
exertion,  effort  that  forms  part  of  the  total  experience;  that 
tense  muscles,  knit  brows,  and  the  like,  indicate  a  high  de- 
gree of  attention,  and  that  general  relaxation,  flaccidity  of 
the  muscles  is  symptomatic  of  a  low  degree  of  attention. 
Now  the  fact  is  that  while  this  relation  holds  in  some  cases, 
the  consciousness  of  strain  or  effoi't  usually  indicates  a  low 
degree  of  attention ;  ordinarily,  maximal  attention  is  marked 
by  the  absence  or  the  obscurity  of  the  feeling  of  effort. 

The  fact  of  differences  of  clearness  within  a  given 
field  of  consciousness  may  be  represented  by  a  dia- 
gram of  concentric  circles,  the  innermost  represent- 
ing the  clearest  part  of  the  field,  the  outer  circles 
representing  less  and  less  clear  parts.  The  number 
of  circles  which  are  employed  in  particular  cases 
will  vary  with  the  individual  observer's  judgment 


176  ELEMENTS   OF  PSYCHOLOGY 

as  to  the  number  of  distinguishable  degrees  of  clear- 
ness, or  attention,  that  may  coexist  within  the  par- 
ticular conscious  field. 

The  Range  of  Attention. — One  of  the  conventional 
topics  of  treatises  on  Attention  is,  how  many  things 
can  we  attend  to  at  once?  Now  it  is  clear  that  the 
question,  as  it  is  usually  stated,  is  full  of  ambigui- 
ties. What,  for  example,  is  meant  by  'thing'?  Do 
we  mean  something  as  simple  as  dots  on  a  sheet  of 
paper?  or  do  we  mean  something  as  complex  as 
orchestra  music  or  a  landscape  or  a  city  viewed  from 
the  roof  of  a  sky-scraper?  Again,  are  the  'things' 
the  same  or  different  in  kind?  If  they  are  sense- 
impressions,  are  they  all  visual,  or  part  visual,  part 
auditory,  part  cutaneous?  We  must  know  precisely 
what  is  meant  by  'things'  before  the  question  can  be 
answered  intelligently.  Further,  what  is  meant  by 
'attend  to'?  Is  the  consciousness  of  each  of  the 
several  objects  of  attention  clear  or  obscure?  What 
is  the  position  of  the  attended-to  object  or  objects 
in  the  total  conscious  field?  Further,  what  degree 
of  clearness  is  meant?  minimal  or  maximal,  or  some 
intermediate  degree?  Lastly,  it  is  imperative  that 
we  give  precise  meaning  to  the  words  'at  once'.  Do 
we  mean  one  second  or  one-half  or  one-fifth  or  one- 
hundredth  of  a  second?  Even  the  expressions  — 
'momentary  exposure',  'momentary  glance',  'momen- 
tary stimulation'  are  too  indefinite  to  be  psycholog- 
ically valuable.  It  is  necessary  to  tell  precisely  what 
we  mean  by  'at  once',  'a  moment',  'an  instant',  and 
so  on. 


ATTENTION  177 

Experiments  upon  the  range,  or  scope,  of  atten- 
tion are  sometimes  conducted  with  the  necessary 
care  in  respect  to  the  foregoing  points:  but  very 
frequently  they  are  not;  in  the  latter  case,  the  re- 
sults are  worthless.  And  even  when  every  care  is 
taken  to  fix  precisely  the  conditions  of  the  experi- 
ment, certain  other  difficulties  arise  to  plague  the 
experimenter  and  to  confuse  the  meaning  of  his 
results.  To  illustrate:  in  the  simplest  form  of  the 
experiment  on  the  range  of  attention  the  observer 
is  given  a  number  of  impressions — visual,  auditory, 
pressure,  what  not  —  having  been  requested  pre- 
viously to  tell  how  many  there  are,  the  meaning 
being  —  how  many  things  did  you  see,  hear,  'feel' 
during  the  period  of  stimulation.  But  since  the 
stimulus  excites  processes  in  the  sensory  apparatus 
that  continue  for  a  time  after  the  stimulus  itself  dis- 
appears, the  observer  reports  not  only  the  objects 
of  which  he  was  conscious  at  the  moment  of  stimu- 
lation, but  also  those  suggested  by  the  after  effects 
of  the  stimulus.  In  other  words,  the  observer,  in- 
stead of  reporting  only  the  objects  of  which  he  was 
conscious  at  the  moment  of  impression,  reports  also 
all  the  objects  that  'develop'  in  consciousness,  i.  e., 
get  named,  located,  described,  after  the  stimulus 
ceases.  Accordingly,  in  this  case,  the  observer  re- 
ports the  number  of  meanings  that  develop,  rather 
than  the  number  of  things  of  which  he  was  definitely 
conscious  during  the  period  of  stimulation.  Pills- 
bury  puts  this  phase  of  the  matter  well : 


178  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

"Careful  observation,"  he  writes,  "of  the  process  of  deter- 
mining the  number  of  objects  shows  that  even  with  short 
exposures  the  objects  are  not  attended  to  at  once,  but  are 
impressed  upon  consciousness  and  persist  for  a  time  in  the 
memory  after-image,  where  they  may  be  attended  to  separ- 
ately and  counted.  It  is  as  if  one  took  an  instantaneous 
photograph  of  a  group  of  objects  and  counted  them  on  the 
film  after  development.  The  memory  after-image  persists 
only  for  a  second  or  two,  however,  and  the  number  of  objects 
that  may  be  seen  with  a  short  exposure  depends  upon  the 
number  that  can  be  attended  to  and  counted  before  the 
image  disappears.  It  seems  probable  from  all  the  experi- 
ments that  only  a  single  object  may  be  attended  to  at  once."i 

In  still  other  cases  the  observer  confuses  what  he 
knows,  or  thinks  he  knows,  about  the  object  with 
what  was  focal  at  the  moment  of  impression.  For 
example,  if  the  stimulus  is  the  printed  word  'psy- 
chology', and  the  observer  is  asked  to  report  how 
many  letters  he  saw,  he  will  report  more  than  he 
actually  saw,  even  though  he  be  forewarned.  He 
sees  a  few  of  the  letters,  knows  their  customary- 
associates,  and  irresistibly  adds  the  latter  to  the 
ones  actually  seen. 

'  Our  conclusion,  then,  in  respect  to  the  problem 
of  the  number  of  things  we  can  attend  to  at  once 
is  that  the  loose,  general  form  in  which  it  is  ordi- 
narily stated,  does  not  admit  of  an  answer: 
further,  that  in  the  experimental  study  of  the  prob- 
lem, it  is  extremely  difficult  to  adhere  strictly  to  ex- 
perimental conditions. 

The  Forms  of  Attention. —  Strictly  speaking,  there 
is  only  one  kind  of  attention.    All  cases  of  attention, 


1  r/ie  Essentials  of  Psychology,  1911,  p.  124. 


ATTENTION  179 

i.  e.,  all  clear  consciousnesses,  are  alike,  in  kind.  But 
they  may  differ  in  respect  to  their  conditions  and 
their  concomitants,  and  these  differences  are  made 
the  basis  of  the  classification  of  the  several  'forms' 
of  attention;  namely,  voluntary,  involuntary,  and 
non-voluntary. 

Voluntary  Attention.  —  One  distinctive  mark  of 
voluntary  attention  is  that  it  is  preceded  by  an  ex- 
press volition,  a  definite  purpose  to  attend.  We 
*wiir  to  attend  to  the  details  of  a  laboratory  experi- 
ment, to  the  grammatical  forms  of  a  foreign  lan- 
guage, to  the  unfolding  of  the  plot  of  a  novel.  Again, 
voluntary  attention  arises  and  is  maintained  in  the 
midst  of  conflicting  tendencies.  Our  'will'  to  attend 
to  the  experiment  conflicts  with  our  desire  to  talk 
to  a  classmate  or  to  be  on  the  ball  ground  or  simply 
to  do  nothing  in  particular.  And  conflict  involves 
muscular  tension,  changes  in  heart-beat  and  rate 
of  breathing,  and  other  unlocalized  organic  changes, 
together  with  their  resulting  sensations  and  feelings 
which  we  group  together  under  the  expression  — 
the  consciousness  of  effort.  Accordingly,  voluntary 
attention  is  said  to  occur  in  a  complex  setting  of 
sensations  and  feeling  characteristic  of  the  con- 
sciousness of  effort;  this  is  its  second  distinguishing 
mark,  which  together  with  the  'antecedent  purpose*, 
already  mentioned,  serve  to  distinguish  voluntary 
attention  from  "^he  other  two  forms. 

Involuntary  Attention. — Voluntary  attention,  we 
saw,  presupposes  an  express  purpose  to  attend  to  a 
given  object.  The  distinctive  mark  of  involuntary 
attention,  on  the  other  hand,  is  that  it  arises  in 


180  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

opposition  to  the  general  purpose  or  interests  of 
the  moment.  It  involves  a  disturbance  of  the  con- 
scious 'set',  the  dominant  trend  of  one's  mental  proc- 
esses. As  the  term  mvoluntary  implies,  it  is  atten- 
tion against  the  will,  so  to  say.  Further,  whereas 
voluntary  attention  depends  primarily  upon  a  prior 
volition,  involuntary  attention  depends  rather  upon 
the  nature  or  attributes  of  objects.  Stimuli  posses- 
sing certain  properties,  certain  kinds  of  images  and 
thoughts,  arouse  involuntary  attention.  Thus,  sup- 
pose one  is  engaged  in  adding  a  long  column  of 
figures  when  suddenly  a  book  falls  from  the  shelf, 
upsets  the  ink-well  and  blotches  the  column  one  is 
adding,  etc.;  one  cannot  help  attending  to  the  dis- 
turbance. In  general,  intense,  sudden,  unexpected 
stimuli,  noises,  flashes  of  light,  disagreeable  odors, 
twinges  of  pain,  force  attention  upon  themselves 
and  displace  the  objects  of  voluntary  or  non-volun- 
tary attention.  It  is,  perhaps,  unnecessary  to  cite 
illustrations  of  the  fact  that  images  or  thoughts  that 
are  strongly  tinged  with  emotion  —  say  anger,  or 
love,  or  joy,  or  grief,  or  hope,  or  fear,  or  anxiety  — 
tend  to  obtrude  themselves  into  the  stream  of  con- 
sciousness often  against  our  best  efforts  to  keep  them 
out  and  to  attend  to  other  matters. 

Non-Voluntary  Attention. — Non-voluntary  atten- 
tion is  best  described  by  noting  wherein  it  differs 
from  the  other  two  forms.  As  contrasted  with  the 
voluntary,  purposive  attention  and  its  attendant 
consciousness  of  effort,  the  non-voluntary  form 
arises  spontaneously  and  runs  its  course  freely:  it 
is  purposeless,  effortless.    Contrasted  with  involun- 


ATTENTION  181 

tary  attention,  which  marks  a  disturbance  of  the 
trend  of  consciousness  and  which  is  often  accom- 
panied by  disagreeable  feelings,  the  non-voluntary 
form  arises  in  a  field  that  is  relatively  free,  in  which 
there  is  no  conflict,  and  its  course  is  marked  ordi- 
narily by  agreeable  feelings. 

Popularly  expressed,  non-voluntary  attention  is 
attention  to  objects  that  are  interesting,  that  have 
emotional  coloring.  The  'interest'  may  be  native, 
instinctive  or  acquired,  derived.  Intense,  or  sud- 
denly appearing  stimuli  are  natively  interesting;  so 
also  are,  to  use  James'  list,  strange  things,  moving 
things,  wild  animals,  bright  things,  pretty  things, 
metallic  things,  words,  blows,  blood,  etc.,  etc.  Non- 
voluntary attention  is  thus  characteristic  of  child- 
hood; attention  to  animal  pets,  colored  toys,  plays, 
games,  child  companions  and  the  like  make  up  the 
round  of  the  child's  activities.  But  our  interest  in 
an  object  may  be  acquired,  derived.  Perhaps  most 
of  the  interests  of  adults  are  of  this  sort.  The  stu- 
dent's interest  in  his  problems,  the  merchant's  in 
money  and  markets,  the  lawyer's  in  cases  and  court 
decisions,  the  physician's  interest  in  the  newest  dis- 
coveries in  pathology  are  mainly  derived,  but  they 
nevertheless  often  possess  all  the  warmth  and 
energy  of  our  native  interests,  and  the  objects  to 
which  they  attach  no  less  certainly  impel  attention 
of  the  non-voluntary  kind. 

Popular  View  of  Attention.  —  It  remains  to  de- 
scribe two  or  three  defects  of  the  popular  conception 
of  attention.  In  the  first  place,  the  popular  meaning 
of  attention  is  extremely  variable,  so  variable,  in 


182  ELEMENTS   OF  PSYCHOLOGY 

fact,  that  the  term  covers  by  turns  all  of  the  mind's 
activities,  conditions,  and  affections.  Sometimes, 
perhaps  most  frequently,  it  is  used  synonymously 
with  mind,  or  consciousness.  This  is  its  meaning, 
apparently,  when  one  speaks  of  attention  as  wan- 
dering, or  as  being  fascinated,  or  as  focussed,  con- 
centrated, or  of  the  'field'  of  attention.  The  mean- 
ing would  be  the  same  if  one  spoke  of  mind  as  wan- 
dering or  of  the  focusing  of  consciousness,  instead 
of  the  wandering,  focusing,  and  so  on  of  attention. 
It  would  probably  be  safe  to  assert  that  in  three- 
fourths  of  the  statements  in  which  'attention' 
occurs,  one  could  substitute  for  it  the  word  con- 
sciousness or  mind  without  altering  the  meaning. 

At  other  times,  attention  is  described  as  the  pecu- 
liar power  which  the  mind  possesses  of  concentrat- 
ing, or  focusing,  itself  upon  one  of  a  number  of 
possible  objects;  it  is  the  mind's  concentrating  fac- 
ulty, the  faculty  whereby  the  field  of  consciousness 
is  contracted.  In  this  meaning,  attention  is  like  the 
ability  one  has  to  limit  the  visual  field  to  one  of  its 
objects  or  features,  say  a  given  tree's  mode  of 
branching  or  to  the  color  of  the  brick  in  a  given 
building,  instead  of  looking  at  the  landscape  as  a 
whole.  In  fact,  the  act  of  limiting  the  visual  field 
and  of  looking  at  one  object  or  aspect  thereof  is 
supposed  to  be  just  one  form  of  attention's  activity. 

Attention  in  the  meaning  just  indicated,  i.  e.,  as 
the  power  whereby  the  extent  of  the  field  of  con- 
sciousness is  limited,  seems  to  relate  primarily  and 
chiefly  to  changes  in  the  mind  itself.  At  still  other 
times,  'attention'  means,  apparently,  a  special  way 


ATTENTION  183 

in  which  the  mind  attacks  its  objects.  The  expres- 
sions —  attention  seizes,  grasps,  catches  —  suggest 
that  it  is  a  kind  of  prehensile  organ  which  the  mind 
employs  in  securing  objects  for  careful  considera- 
tion. It  is  the  activity  whereby  the  mind  selects,  in 
the  face  of  difficulties,  one  of  a  number  of  possible 
objects  for  examination.  For  example,  we  speak  of 
attention  seizing  upon  one  feature  of  a  complex 
phenomenon,  say  the  tones  of  some  one  instrument 
in  an  orchestra,  while  the  others  are  neglected. 

In  the  two  senses  last  mentioned,  attention  is  conceived 
of  as  a  form  of  mental  activity.  In  the  former  —  concen- 
trating, focussing  —  the  activity  consists  apparently  of 
changes  within  the  conscious  field  itself;  in  the  latter  —  se- 
lecting, seizing  —  it  is  outgoing,  it  is  a  way  in  which  the 
mind  is  supposed  to  act  upon  its  objects. 

We  have  just  spoken  of  the  variety  of  meanings 
that  attach,  in  everyday  speech,  to  the  word  atten- 
tion. A  second  serious  defect  of  the  popular  use 
of  the  term  is  its  extreme  vagueness,  or  generality. 
To  say,  for  instance,  that  a  man's  attention  wan- 
ders or  is  diverted  from  music  to  money,  that  it  is 
focused  now  on  the  one,  now  on  the  other,  and  that 
finally  it  is  quietly  slumbering,  really  tells  us  noth- 
ing definite  about  the  man's  conscious  processes. 
It  is  as  if  the  scientist  should  tell  us  that  electricity 
wanders,  lingers,  that  it  is  lured,  captured,  freed, 
without  telling  us  anything  in  detail  about  its  wan- 
dering, lingering,  and  so  on.  We  should  say,  and 
rightly,  that  he  is  giving  us  metaphors  instead  of 
information.     Again,  to  say  that  attention  is  the 


184  ELEMENTS   OF  PSYCHOLOGY 

mind's  power  of  concentrating  itself,  or  of  seizing 
objects,  is  once  more  to  put  us  off  with  incomplete 
statements.  We  should  ask,  "concentrating  in  what 
respect?  What  precisely  is  meant,  in  this  case,  by 
'seizing'?" 

Third,  the  popular  conceptions  of  attention  orig- 
inate in,  or  at  any  rate,  are  closely  bound  up  with, 
the  erroneous  notion  that  the  mind  is  some  kind  of 
indwelling  material  entity,  substance,  force,  or 
creature.  If  one  sets  out  with  this  conception,  it 
is  an  easy  step  to  the  thought  that  the  mind  has  the 
powers  and  attributes  of  other  material  things;  it 
then  becomes  easy  to  think  of  mind  as  wandering, 
as  being  captured,  as  being  concentrated,  as  seizing 
objects  and  so  on,  as  occasion  may  require.  But 
if  we  discard  this  physical  conception  of  mind  and 
think  of  it  as  the  sum  total  of  our  conscious  pro- 
cesses, then  these  popular  descriptions  lose  their 
meaning.  Our  theory  of  attention  must  agree  with 
our  theory  of  mind. 

REFERENCES 

Angell:  Psychology,  Ch.  IV. 

James:  Principles  of  Psychology,  Ch.  XL 

Kulpe:  Outlines  of  Psychology,  §§  72-76. 

Pillsbury:  Attention,  Chs.  I-IV. 

Titchener:  A  Text  Book  of  Psychology,  §  §  75-84. 

Wundt:    Principles   of   Physiological   Psychology,   Vol.    I, 

1904,  p.  315  ff. 


CHAPTER  Vm 
ASSOCIATION 

Associative  Connections.  —  The  student  who  has 
watched  the  trains  of  imagery,  ideas,  thoughts,  im- 
pulses, desires  which  from  hour  to  hour  make  up 
his  stream  of  consciousness  must  have  observed  cer- 
tain uniformities  in  the  order  of  the  appearance  of 
the  items  composing  the  stream.  It  must  have  been 
observed,  for  example,  that,  as  a  rule,  the  sight  of 
the  date,  '1492'  is  followed  by  the  thought  — 'Co- 
lumbus-discovered-America' ;  that  the  word  'home', 
seen  or  heard,  is  usually  followed  by  images  and 
thoughts  of  one's  own  home ;  that  A  suggests  B,  that 
'6;f 6'  suggests  '=-12',  that  one  line  of  a  familiar 
verse  revives  the  next.^  Uniformity  in  the  order 
in  which  many  conscious  processes  follow  one  an- 
other forms  a  conspicuous  feature  of  our  mental 
life. 

It  must  also  have  been  observed  that  what  some- 
times appears,  to  superficial  inspection,  as  the  be- 
wildering and  lawless  flight  of  one  consciousness 
after  another  is  really,  as  closer  study  shows,  a 
process  which  is  subject  to  laws  as  rigid  as  those 
governing  the  conscious  revival  of  the  letters  of  the 
alphabet;  that  many  of  the  seeming  gaps  in  the 


1  The  popular  terms  'revive',  'recall',  'suggest,'  and  the  like 
mean  here,  and  elsewhere  in  this  text,  'is,'  'are,'  'will  be,'  etc,  Imme- 
diately followed  by'. 

(185) 


186  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

conscious  stream  can  be  bridged  over  by  closer 
scrutiny.  The  following  passage  from  Hobbes  is 
frequently  quoted  to  show  that  we  are  often  able  to 
retrace  the  steps  which  have  lead  to  seemingly 
abrupt  and  irrelevant  thoughts  and  ideas : 

"In  a  discourse  of  our  present  civil  war  [in  England] 
what  could  seem  more  impertinent  than  to  ask,  as  one  did, 
what  was  the  value  of  a  Roman  penny?  Yet  the  coherence 
to  me  was  manifest  enough.  For  the  thought  of  the  war 
introduced  the  thought  of  delivering  up  the  King  [King 
Charles]  to  his  enemies;  the  thought  of  that  brought  in  the 
thought  of  the  delivering  up  of  Christ;  and  that,  again,  the 
thought  of  the  thirty  pence,  which  was  the  price  of  that 
treason.     And  thence  easily  followed  the  malicious  question." 

Furthermore,  if  the  student  carries  his  reflections 
a  little  farther  he  will  notice  that  some  of  his  per- 
ceptions and  thoughts  are  followed  now  by  one,  now 
by  another,  of  their  former  associates,  and  that  it  is 
frequently  impossible  to  predict  with  certainty 
which  one  shall  arise  on  a  given  occasion.  Thus  the 
sound  of  the  bare  word  'gold'  may  revive  any  one  of 
a  multitude  of  its  former  mates,  e.  g.,  an  image  or 
thought  either  of  the  color  of  gold,  of  a  gold  coin, 
a  gold  watch,  gold  dust,  gold  mine.  Golden  Rule, 
gold  and  silver,  diamonds,  California,  the  Klondike 
—  any  one,  to  repeat,  of  'gold's'  former  mental  asso- 
ciates. Again,  if  the  student  knows  something  of 
the  life  of  the  first  Napoleon,  the  sight  of  the  Em- 
peror's name  is  followed  with  equal  ease  and  fre- 
quency by  either  'Waterloo',  or  'Wellington',  or  'St. 
Helena',  or  'Paris'.      And  so  of  multitudes  of  other 


ASSOCIATION  187 

words;  they  have  been  linked  in  past  experience  to 
a  vast  number  of  images  and  thoughts,  any  one  of 
which,  may  now  be  revived  therewith. 

Finally,  the  student  may  have  observed  that  at 
times  he  is  unable  to  account  for  the  appearance  of 
certain  of  his  ideas  and  images;  they  bear  no  dis- 
coverable relation  to  the  other  features  of  his  pres- 
ent mental  life,  they  seem  to  arise  spontaneously,  to 
come  'out  of  the  everywhere'. 

In  brief,  the  items  in  the  mental  stream  seem 
sometimes  to  be  bound  together  by  strong  and  easily 
discernible  bonds ;  at  other  times  the  threads  of  con- 
nection are  fine  and  lie  far  beneath  the  surface;  on 
still  other  occasions  it  is  altogether  indeterminable 
which  one  of  a  multitude  of  possible  consciousnesses 
shall  sprout  out  of  the  one  just  fading;  and,  finally, 
many  mental  processes  seem  to  shoot  into  the  con- 
scious stream  out  of  'the  clear  blue'. 

Observations,  such  as  we  have  just  mentioned, 
have  given  rise  to  numerous  attempts  to  describe 
the  associations,  or  associative  connections  (espe- 
cially in  respect  to  their  differences),  which  spring 
up  among  the  components  of  our  mental  life;  and 
also  to  describe  the  conditions  under  which  they 
first  occur.  We  shall  presently  undertake  to  sum- 
marize the  results  of  these  efforts;  but  first  two 
remarks,  by  way  of  definition,  are  required. 

(1)  An  'association'  or  'associative  combination', 
as  we  are  now  using  these  terms,  is  an  acquired 
connection,  of  such  a  nature,  among  certain  of  our 
perceptions,  images,  and  thoughts  that  when  subse- 


188     ■  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

quently  one  of  the  members  of  a  given  combination 
reappears,  its  earlier  associates  also  tend  to  appear. 

The  so-called  'laws  of  association  of  ideas'  assert  that 
under  certain  conditions  two  or  more  ideas  become  related 
in  such  a  way  that  when  one  of  them  reappears  the  other 
or  others  also  tend  to  reappear.  In  modern  psychology  the 
tendency  is  to  abandon  the  expression  'laws  of  association  of 
ideas'  and  to  speak  instead  of  the  'conditions'  of  association, 
meaning  thereby  the  conditions  under  which  associative  con- 
nections, such  as  we  have  just  mentioned,  occur. 

(2)  It  is  a  little  curious,  at  first  thought,  that 
the  only  evidence  we  can  have  that  an  associative 
connection  betv^een  given  conscious  processes  exists 
is  that  the  appearance  of  one  is  actually  followed 
by  the  appearance  of  the  other  or  others.  The 
school  boy  may  insist  that  he  knows  who  wrote  'The 
Legend  of  Sleepy  Hollow',  but  until  he  is  able  to  say 
'Irving'  we  may  still  doubt  that  that  associative  com- 
bination has  ever  existed  in  his  mind.  Again,  the 
only  convincing  proof  that  a  memory  hero  can  fur- 
nish of  his  ability  to  enumerate  forthwith  all  the 
important  political,  social,  economic,  educational, 
and  literary  events  of  any  year  of  Queen  Victoria's 
reign,  which  we  may  choose  to  name,  is  that  he  shall 
actually  do  it.  Accordingly,  from  this  point  of 
view  our  task  would  be  (1)  to  describe  typical  in- 
stances of  associative  revivaL  and  (2)  to  set  forth 
the  conditions  of  their  occurrence.  This  phase  of 
the  subject,  however,  seems  to  belong  rather  in  a 
chapter  on  MEMORY,  and  we  shall  defer  it  until  we 
reach  that  topic.  For  the  present  we  shall  limit 
our  study  to  a  description  (1)  of  certain  variations 


ASSOCIATION  189 

among  associative  combinations,  and  (2)  to  a  state- 
ment of  the  conditions  favorable  to  the  formation 
of  such  combinations. 

Variations  among  Associative  Combinations.  — 
Associative  complexes  vary  in  respect  to —  (1)  the 
nature  of  their  components;  (2)  the  number  of 
items  they  comprise;  (3)  the  permanence  of  the 
grouping  of  their  terms;  (4)  the  intimacy  of  the 
connections  among  their  components. 

(1)  In  reference  to  the  first  kind  of  variations 
we  may  observe,  first,  that  associative  complexes 
may  consist  either  of  perceptual  factors  as,  e.  g., 
when  thoughts  of  the  color,  coldness,  hardness, 
smoothness,  weight,  'ring'  when  struck,  of  a  piece 
of  steel  are  linked  together;  or  of  imaginal  factors, 
as,  e.  g.,  the  image  of  a  city,  say  Athens  or  Jeru- 
salem, which  one  gains  from  others'  descriptions; 
or  they  may  consist  of  both  perceptual  and  imaginal 
elements;  for  instance,  one's  knowledge  of  the  sun 
includes  the  sensory  materials  —  color,  warmth, 
location,  supplemented  by  the  images  of  its  immense 
size,  enormous  heat,  eruptions,  storms,  flight 
through  space,  which  the  astronomer  supplies  to  us. 

We  observe,  second,  that  the  components  of  asso- 
ciational  complexes  may  consist  either  of  elements 
which  arise  in  homogeneous  fields  of  sense-experi- 
ence or  of  those  belonging  to  different  sensory  de- 
partments. In  the  former  case,  touches  are  com- 
bined with  touches,  sights  with  sights,  sounds  with 
sounds,  and  so  on.  For  example,  the  several  visual 
features  of  the  persons  whom  the  little  child  sees 


190  ELEMENTS   OF  PSYCHOLOGY 

often,  those  of  the  rooms  in  which  he  spends  his 
early  days,  the  numerous  objects  of  familiar  out- 
door scenes,  become  linked  together  so  that  the  sight 
of  any  one  tends  to  revive  the  others.  And  of  course, 
for  grown  persons,  if  they  have  any  power  of  visual 
imagery,  glimpses,  part  views,  fleeting  glances  are 
continually  recalling  to  the  mind's  eye  fully  rounded 
images  of  acquaintances,  friends,  familiar  land- 
scapes, buildings,  vehicles,  animals,  maps,  pictures, 
printed  music,  mathematical  formulas ;  bare  glimpses 
of  even  the  words  we  are  now  reading  are  sufficient 
to  revive  them  in  their  entirety.  In  like  manner, 
sounds  begin  very  early  in  the  child's  experience  to 
fall  into  groups  or  clusters  so  that  the  appearance 
of  one  is  at  once  followed  by  its  customary  asso- 
ciates. The  order  of  sequence  of  the  sounds  of  nur- 
sery rhymes  and  songs  is  a  case  in  point.  In  older 
children  and  grown  persons  the  notes  of  a  melody 
or  the  words  of  a  poem  become  linked  together  in  a 
given  order  so  that  the  sound  of  a  single  note  or 
word  is  followed  by  the  imaged  sounds  of  the  others. 
The  associations  just  mentioned  arise  within  the 
same  sense-department.  Far  more  conspicuous,  in 
everyday  experience,  are  those  which  spring  up 
between  the  different  kinds  of  sensory  materials; 
for  example,  between  visual  and  auditory,  auditory 
and  tactual,  tactual  and  visual,  visual  and  gustatory 
perceptions  and  images.  These  combinations,  too, 
form  a  prominent  feature  of  the  first  steps  in  the 
child's  mental  development.  For  instance,  a  visual 
image  of  the  mother  is  connected  with  the  sound  of 
her  voice;  the  touches  of  given  objects  are  linked 


ASSOCIATION  191 

with  the  way  they  look;  the  'look'  of  an  object  sug- 
gests that  it  is  rough  or  smooth,  cold  or  warm,  soft 
or  hard,  heavy  or  light ;  the  odor  of  a  nauseous  drug 
revives  its  name,  color,  taste,  together  with  those 
particular  organic  sensations  which  it  produces 
when  swallowed.  Associations  also  grow  up  very 
early  between  given  actions  on  a  child's  part  and 
definite  sensory  experiences,  e.  g.,  a  child's  shaking 
a  bell  to  hear  it^ring. 

The  kindergarten  game  in  which  an  object,  say  an  orange, 
is  placed  in  the  hands  of  a  blind-folded  child  with  the  request 
that  he  name  it  and  tell  as  much  about  it  as  possible  is  ob- 
viously a  test  of  the  associations  between  immediately  present 
and  past  sensory  experiences. 

(2)  An  associative  complex  always  comprises  at 
least  two  terms  —  as  the  image  of  a  color  and  the 
thought  of  its  name,  the  thought  of  a  certain  build- 
ing and  of  certain  of  its  features  —  though  it  may 
contain  a  great  many  more,  the  number  in  each  case 
being  limited  only  by  the  number  of  terms  which, 
in  the  individual's  experience,  have  occurred  in  rela- 
tions effective  for  association.  When  we  say  popu- 
larly that  one  person's  knowledge  concerning  a  given 
thing  is  richer,  fuller,  more  nearly  complete,  than 
another's,  we  mean  that  the  associative  connections 
in  respect  to  the  thing  are  more  numerous  in  the 
mind  of  the  first  person  than  in  that  of  the  second. 

(3)  Associative  complexes  vary  greatly  in  respect 
to  the  permanence  of  the  ties  whereby  their  compo- 
nents are  linked  together.  Objects  and  their  names, 
words  and  their  meanings,  things  and  their  uses, 


192  ELEMENTS   OF  PSYCHOLOGY 

events  and  their  dates,  actions  and  their  results, 
are  examples  of  associations  which  easily  acquire 
aind  retain  a  high  degree  of  permanence  in  most 
minds ;  while  the  scientific  names  of  common  plants, 
the  names  of  eminent  men  who  were  contemporaries 
of,  e.  g.,  Julius  Caesar,  the  dramatis  personae  of  a 
Greek  tragedy,  though  easily  learned  in  school  days, 
soon  thereafter  fade  away  because,  ordinarily,  the 
conditions  for  their  retention  are  not  operative. 
Other  things  being  equal,  the  associative  combina- 
tions formed  in  childhood  are  more  durable  than 
those  formed  in  later  years. 

(4)  By  variations  among  complexes  in  respect  to 
the  intimacy  of  the  connections  of  their  components 
is  meant  the  variations  in  the  degree  of  probability 
that  the  appearance  of  one  of  their  members  will 
involve  the  appearance  of  the  other  or  others.  Thus, 
for  most  of  us  the  perception  or  image  of  the  word 
'Romeo'  is  more  likely  to  be  followed  by  the  word 
or  thought  'Juliet'  than  it  is  by  the  thought  'Shakes- 
peare'; 'wigwam'  more  frequently  revives  the  word 
'Indian'  than  it  does  'place  of  shelter';  'shooting- 
star',  the  thought  or  image  of  'a  streaming  light  in 
the  heavens',  than  thoughts  of  other  stellar  phe- 
nomena, and,  in  each  case,  because  the  associative 
connection  between  the  first  and  second  terms  of 
these  series  is  closer  than  it  is  between  the  first  and 
third.  This  sort  of  variation  depends  partly  upon 
the  conditions  of  associative  combination  which  we 
are  now  to  study. 

A  further  illustration  of  the  variations  among  associative 
combinations  as  regards  the  intimacy  of  the  connection  of 


ASSOCIATION  193 

their  components  is  the  fact  that  if  one  has  learned  the 
names  of  the  presidents  of  the  United  States  in  the  order  of 
their  incumbency,  and  only  in  that  order,  and  if  one  is 
called  upon  to  repeat  them,  it  will  be  easiest  to  begin  with 
Washington  and  proceed  name  by  name  to  that  of  the  last 
incumbent,  although  it  is  also  possible  to  name  them  in  any 
other  one  of  a  multitude  of  orders,  which  shows  that,  in 
addition  to  the  close  associative  ties  between  the  several 
members  of  the  series  and  their  immediate  successors,  many 
other  bonds  of  varying  intimacy  have  been  formed.  In  fact, 
every  member  of  the  series  is,  in  some  degree,  linked  to 
every  other  member. 

Conditions  Favorable  to  the  Formation  of  Asso- 
ciations.—  The  conditions  which  favor  the  formation 
of  associative  connections  among  conscious  proc- 
esses —  perceptions,  images,  and  ideas  —  comprise, 
(1)  certain  characteristics  of  the  processes  them- 
selves; (2)  certain  relations  in  which  they  occur; 
and  (3)  a  group  of  conditions  which  are,  in  a  meas- 
ure, external  to  both  the  processes  and  the  relations 
immediately  involved.  We  shall  consider  them  in 
the  order  named. 

First  in  importance  among  the  characteristics 
which  increase  the  associative  possibilities  of  con- 
scious processes  are  those  of  vividness  and  distinct- 
ness. Thus,  if  one  examines  the  image  formed  in 
a  momentary  glance  at  a  picture,  or  a  land-scape,  or 
a  building,  which  one  has  never  before  seen,  one 
finds  in  the  image  those  features  which  in  percep- 
tion were  life-like  and  clearly  defined,  which,  in  a 
word,  'caught  the  attention';  and  they  are  the  fea- 
tures which,  unless  they  are  supplemented  by  later 


■.ii^^ryc 


194  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

observation  or  undergo  other  modification,  consti- 
tute one's  permanent  image  of  the  object.  Further, 
the  difference  between  two  mental  processes  in  re- 
spect to  their  effectiveness  for  association  with  other 
mental  processes  is  related  closely  to  their  differ- 
ences in  respect  to  their  vividness  and  distinctness. 
Other  things  equal,  a  mental  state  which  has  these 
properties  will  enter  into  more  associative  connec- 
tions and  more  readily  than  one  that  is  dull  and 
blurred. 

A  second  group  of  conditions  which  favor  the 
formation  of  associative  combinations  among  con- 
scious processes  consists  of  certain  relations  which 
they  bear  to  one  another.  The  most  obvious  of 
these,  and  also  the  most  important,  is  that  of  tem- 
poral contiguity.  Other  things  equal,  mental  pro- 
cesses, which  occur  at  the  same  time,  or  in  imme- 
diate succession,  in  the  same  'conscious  present',  are 
likely  to  become  linked  together.  A  familiar  illus- 
tration of  this  fact  is  that  the  student's  images  and 
thoughts  of  buildings,  trees,  class-mates,  library, 
subjects  of  study,  laboratories,  books,  examinations, 
tend  to  form  an  associative  system,  a  constellation 
of  what  we  call  school  topics.  Other  familiar  ex- 
amples are  the  connections  that  arise  between  the 
thoughts  —  moon  and  stars,  judge  and  jury,  doctor 
and  patient,  river  and  bridge,  horse  and  wagon ;  but 
the  principle  is  so  simple  and  so  obvious  that  further 
illustrations,  if  desired,  will  readily  occur  to  the  stu- 
dent. Associations  whose  formation  depends  chiefly 
upon  the  temporal  proximity  of  their  components 


ASSOCIATION  195 

are  said  to  arise  according  to  the  law  of  contiguity.' 
Closely  related  to  the  influence  of  bare  contiguity 
in  producing  associative  ties  among  conscious  proc- 
esses is  that  of  frequency  of  repetition  of  the  proc- 
esses, either  simultaneously  or  in  immediate  suc- 
cession. The  effectiveness  of  repetition  in  the  for- 
mation of  associations  is  illustrated  in  the  method 
ordinarily  employed  in  learning  an  alphabet  or  the 
spelling  of  words  or  the  multiplication  table,  the 
conjugation  of  Latin  verbs,  lines  of  poetry,  prices 
of  goods,  the  locations  of  post-offices,  if  one  is  pre- 
paring for  a  postal  clerk's  examination.  The  more 
frequently  two  or  more  processes  occur  in  the  same 
conscious  present  the  more  likely  it  is  that  they  will 
form  an  associative  complex. 

It  was  said,  when  enumerating  the  conditions 
which  facilitate  the  formation  of  associations  among 
conscious  processes,  that  one  group  of  conditions 
lies  somewhat  outside  both  the  processes  themselves 
and  the  relations  immediately  involved.  This  group 
includes  (a)  the  'will'  to  group  one's  ideas  in  regard 
to  particular  objects,  (b)  an  accompaniment  of  in- 
tense feeling  or  emotion,  (c)  mental  alertness,  and 
(d)  a  clear  apprehension  of  the  relations  in  which  a 
series  of  objects  stand  to  one  another.  Thus  (a) 
it  is  evident  that  the  will,  or  purpose,  to  group  one's 
ideas  in  regard  to  the  causes  of  the  Civil  War  in  the 
United  States,  or  the  names  of  the  animals  that  lived 
in  a  given  geologic  age,  is  a  potent  aid  thereto,    (b) 


1  For  criticism  of  the  view  that  bare  proximity  in  time  is 
sufficient  to  generate  associative  combinations,  see  Stout,  The 
Groimdwork  of  Psychology,  1903,  pp63,  f..   117  f. 


196  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

It  is  a  familiar  observation  that  a  series  of  mental 
experiences  occurring  in  a  setting  of  intense  feeling 
or  emotion,  i.  e,,  that  have  intense  emotional  accom- 
paniments, are  likely  to  become  welded  into  a  rela- 
tively compact  group.  Thus,  suppose  that  one  is 
aboard  a  sail-boat  that  capsizes,  and  that  one's  life 
is  long  in  peril;  then,  ever  afterwards,  thoughts  of 
sail-boats  will  likely  recall  items  of  the  one  dread- 
ful experience.  Further,  other  things  equal,  a  mental 
state  which  is  rich  in  emotional  concomitants  will 
enter  into  more  associative  connections  and  more 
readily  than  one  that  is  poor  in  emotional  coloring, 
(c)  It  is  equally  clear  that  associative  ties  among 
conscious  processes  are  more  likely  to  form  when 
one  is  mentally  active  than  when  mentally  drowsy 
or  sluggish,  (d)  The  associability  of  a  series  of 
consciousnesses  is  enhanced  by  the  observation  that 
their  objects  stand  in  certain  relations  —  e.  g.,  tem- 
poral or  causal  or  qualitative  —  to  one  another. 
Thus  the  thoughts  of  objects  as  antecedent  and 
subsequent,  e.  g.,  'Christmas'  and  'New  Year's',  or 
as  cause  and  effect,  e.  g.,  'polluted  water  supply'  and 
'epidemic  of  typhoid',  or  that  are  observed  to  be  in 
some  respects  similar  —  tones  of  different  musical 
instruments  or  words  used  synonymously  —  tend  to 
become  associated.  Another  illustration  of  the  asso- 
ciability of  thoughts,  whose  objects  are  observed 
to  be  similar,  is  that  the  thoughts  of  a  number  of 
printed  words,  which  the  student  identifies  as  the 
names  of  certain  English  poets,  tend  to  fall  into  a 
group  more  readily  than  if  no  such  similarity  of 
meaning  is  recognised.     Again,  the  words  Albany, 


ASSOCIATION  197 

Buffalo,  Cleveland,  Indianapolis,  St.  Louis,  Kansas 
City,  as  the  naked  names  of  several  cities,  have  but 
slight  tendency  to  become  associated.  But  if  one  is 
planning  a  trip  by  rail  from  Boston  to  some  point 
in  central  Kansas,  and  is  told  that  he  will  have  to 
change  coaches  at  the  cities  named,  then,  because  of 
their  common  characteristic  —  places-to-change-cars 
—  the  names  of  these  cities  will  readily  fall  into  a 
group  in  the  traveler's  mind.  The  same  principle 
is  illustrated  in  the  organization  of  many  of  our 
school  subjects.  For  instance,  geography,  geom- 
etry, physics,  American  history,  as  school  studies, 
each  consists  of  selected  facts,  observations,  prin- 
ciples, laws,  in  reference  to  things  which  possess 
recognized  similarities. 

REFERENCES 

Angell:  Psychology,  Chs.  IV,  VIII. 
James:  Principles  of  Psychology,  Ch.  XIV. 
Stout:  The  Groundwork  of  Psychology,  Ch.  VII. 
Thorndike:  Elements  of  Psychology,  Ch.  XIII,  XVI. 
Titchener:  A  Text-Book  of  Psychology,  §§  105-111. 


CHAPTER  IX 

MEMORY 

Definition.  —  A  certain  portion  of  our  mental  life 
consists  of  knowledge  of  our  past  experiences, 
knowledge  of  having  seen  certain  persons,  visited 
certain  places,  of  having  been  engaged  in  given 
kinds  of  work  or  play  or  games,  of  having  expe- 
rienced certain  emotions,  uttered  certain  opinions  or 
judgments,  of  having  decided  upon  certain  courses 
of  action.  Knowledge  of  this  kind  is  ordinarily- 
called  Memory;  or,  with  a  slightly  different  empha- 
sis, we  may  say  —  Memory  is  the  knowledge  of  our 
former  experiences  as  such;  the  experiences  are 
known  as  ours,  and  as  having  occurred  in  our  past. 

In  order  that  we  may  more  easily  perceive  the 
essential  factors  of  the  memory  experience,  let  us 
suppose  that  there  arise  in  our  consciousness  images 
and  ideas  of  our  having  heard  on  a  given  occasion 
some  noted  orator.  Let  us  suppose  further  that,  at 
first,  the  images  or  thoughts  relate  to  the  speaker 
himself,  his  name,  appearance,  manner,  possibly  the 
sound  of  his  voice,  or  are  merely  images  of  words 
and  sentences  uttered.  Then,  if  we  dwell  on  the 
scene,  we  may  think  of  persons  seated  on  the  stage 
beside  the  speaker,  the  hall,  platform,  decorations, 
the  emotional  reactions  of  the  audience,  our  compan- 
ions, and  so  on.  But  the  rise  in  consciousness  of 
vivid  and  exact  images  of  an  object  or  event,  even 

(198) 


MEMORY  199 

though  they  be  accompanied  by  a  multitude  of  re- 
vived associates,  would  not  in  itself  constitute  a 
memory,  since  obviously  the  images  might  all  ap- 
pear as  features  of  a  purely  fictitious  creation,  as 
in  a  dream,  as  figments  of  imagination,  or  as  pic- 
tures of  a  possible  future  event.  In  order  that  my 
knowledge  of  a  given  event  shall  be  regarded  as  a 
memory,  it  must  be  accompanied  by  the  belief  that 
it  occurred  in  the  past;  the  idea  of  'pastness'  must 
attach  to  the  things  of  which  I  am  now  conscious. 
Now,  the  thought  of  'pastness'  arises  and  is  sup- 
ported or  corroborated  by  a  simple  process  of  asso- 
ciation. The  event  remembered  occurred  in  a  cer- 
tain year,  during  a  certain  presidential  campaign, 
when  certain  political  questions  were  in  the  fore- 
ground, the  year  in  which  Mr.  Roosevelt  was  elected 
president,  and  so  on. 

But  the  mere  thought  of  an  event  as  belonging  to 
a  definite  point  in  the  past  does  not  alone  make  of 
it  a  memory.  For  obviously  the  thought  of  histor- 
ical occurrences,  such  as  Julius  Caesar's  assassin- 
ation or  the  battle  of  Waterloo,  may  include  the 
thought  of  their  pastness,  although  no  one  now  liv- 
ing speaks  of  remembering  those  events.  Memory, 
in  the  strict  sense,  involves  the  further  belief  that 
the  remembered  experience  belongs  to  my  own  past. 
Now  the  belief  that  a  given  remembered  fact  be- 
longs to  my  own  past  rests  mainly  upon  two  sets 
of ■  experiences.  First,  I  observe  that  it  harmonizes 
with  and  is  corroborated  by  a  number  of  my  other 
verifiable  memories,  it  forms  a  link  in  a  chain  of 
fully  authenticated  earlier  experiences.     Thus  my 


200  ELEMENTS   OF  PSYCHOLOGY 

memory  of  having  heard  on  a  given  occasion  a  cer- 
tain orator  is  supported  by  the  memory  of  a  num- 
ber of  other  occurrences,  some  of  them  prior,  some 
subsequent  thereto,  e.  g.,  of  the  announcement  that 
he  vi^ould  speak  in  a  given  city  at  a  given  time,  that 
I  was  in  the  city  at  the  time,  engaged  in  certain 
work,  that  a  given  person  accompanied  me  to  the 
meeting,  that  certain  other  persons  were  present, 
that  I  went  to  a  given  place  from  the  meeting,  re- 
viewed the  address  with  my  friends  who  were  also 
present,  and  so  on.  In  the  second  place,  a  remem- 
bered fact  or  event  has  a  feeling  or  emotional  ac- 
companiment which  is  variously  described  as  'warmth 
and  intimacy'  (James)  ;  as  'a  glow  of  warmth',  *a 
sense  of  ownership',  'a  feeling  of  ease',  *  comfortable 
feeling'  (Titchener.)  In  a  word,  the  sense  of  'my- 
ness',  which  forms  an  essential  feature  of  every 
memory  consciousness,  consists  of  (1)  the  sense  of 
congruity  with  my  other  memories  which  attaches 
to  the  remembered  event,  and  (2)  the  feeling  or 
emotion  of  warmth  and  intimacy,  or  at-homeness, 
which  is  awakened  by  the  thought  of  the  event. 

Generally  speaking,  psychologists  are  agreed  as  to  the 
characteristic  marks  of  memory  and  the  memory  conscious- 
ness. To  be  sure,  the  terms  employed  and  the  points  of 
view  differ  somewhat  from  author  to  author;  but  there  is 
substantial  agreement  as  to  the  characteristics  of  the  phe- 
nomena. Compare,  for  example,  the  descriptions  of  James 
and  Titchener.  The  former,  after  pointing  out  that  no  mem- 
ory is  involved  in  the  mere  fact  of  'the  revival  in  the  mind 
of  an  image  or  copy  of  the  original  event',  and  'that  the 
successive  editions  of  a  feeling  [a  consciousness]  are  so 
many  independent  events,  each  snug  in  its  own  skin',  teaches 


MEMORY  201 

that  a  memory  consciousness  involves  two  further  thoughts: 
first,  the  fact  remembered  must  be  expressly  referred  to  the 
past,  thought  as  in  the  past;  second,  'I  [the  person  in  whose 
mind  the  memory  occurs]  must  think  that  I  directly  expe- 
rienced its  occurrence'.  In  like  manner,  Titchener  first  re- 
minds us  that  'no  idea  is  a  memory  in  its  own  right';  or,  in 
the  words  of  a  later  work,  that  'no  image  or  idea  is  intrin- 
sically a  memory-image  or  a  memory-idea'  ....  Then 
that  'an  idea  comes  to  us  as  remembered  only  if  it  comes  to 
us  as  consciously  familiar',  accompanied,  that  is,  by  'the 
feeling  of  familiarity'.  Now  'the  feeling  of  familiarity', 
which,  for  Titchener,  is  the  memory  label,  the  distinctive  mark 
of  a  memory,  implies  James'  'thoughts'  that  an  experience 
belongs  to  the  past  and  that  it  belongs  to  my  past.  F'or 
clearly  the  feeling  that  an  experience  is  'familiar'  implies  the 
feeling,  or  awareness,  that  it  has  been  known  previously  and 
by  me.  In  brief,  both  James  and  Titchener  teach  that  one's 
memory  of  a  fact  or  event  includes,  besides  the  knowledge 
of  the  remembered  fact,  the  consciousness  that  it  belongs  to 
one's  own  past. 

The  Conditions  of  Memory.  —  In  the  foregoing 
paragraphs,  we  have  said  that  memory  is  the 
knowledge  of  our  past  experiences  as  such.  We 
have  said  also  that  the  characteristic  features  of 
the  memory  consciousness  are,  (1)  certain  images 
which  mean  items  of  our  past  experience;  (2)  emo- 
tional and  ideational  factors  which  certify  that 
these  items  belong  to  our  own  past.  We  shall  turn 
next  to  the  conditions  of  the  appearance  of  the 
images  of  our  past  experiences. 

It  is  assumed  in  the  preceding  paragraph  that  memories 
are  usually  mediated  by  images.  To  illustrate:  in  order  to 
remember  that  I  once  met  B.  in  Washington,  images  of  B.'s 
name,  of  his  appearance  and  manner  at  the  time,  of  other 
persons  present,  of  the  surroundings,  of  the  words — 'met  B. 


202  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

in  Washington'  —  some  oi-  all  of  these  which  mean  that  par- 
ticular event  must  appear  in  consciousness. 

The  nature  of  the  mental  state  which  means  a  given 
remembered  event  varies  from  individual  to  individual,  and 
from  time  to  time  in  the  experience  of  the  same  individual. 
But,  as  a  rule,  a  memory  involves  the  presence  of  either  con- 
crete or  symbolic  imagery  which  serves  as  its  vehicle. 

Then  immediately  the  question  arises  —  where 
are  the  vehicles  of  our  memories  when  they  are  not 
in  consciousness?  And  this  question  brings  us  to 
the  central  problem  of  memory  so  far  as  it  involves 
the  retention  and  the  representation  of  definite  por- 
tions of  our  past  experience. 

In  the  older  psychological  literature,  the  treat- 
ment of  no  topic  is  more  completely  cast  in  figura- 
tive language  than  that  of  memory.  Thus  we  read, 
to  instance  only  a  few  of  the  more  grotesque  and 
more  mischievous  figures,  of  memory  as  *a  store- 
house' in  which  ideas  are  stored  away  for  safekeep- 
ing, as  'a  tablet'  upon  which  impressions  are  traced, 
of  memories  'that  are  wax  to  receive  and  marble 
to  retain',  of  ideas  being  'linked  together'  like  the 
links  in  a  chain.  Now  expressions  of  this  sort  may 
be  permissible,  provided,  we  remember  that  we  are 
speaking  figuratively  rather  than  in  the  language 
of  literal  fact.  "We  may  still  speak,"  writes  Mc- 
Dougall,  "of  ideas  being  stored  in  the  mind  and 
being  associated  together,  just  as  we  may  still  say 
of  a  man  that  he  carries  the  im^ge  of  his  beloved 
in  his  heart,  but  the  two  expressions  have  the  same 
sort  of  validity  only.     They  are  picturesque  survi- 


MEMORY  203 

vals  from  the  age  of  ignorance."'  Psychology  no 
longer  employs  such  expressions  to  explain  the  phe- 
nomena of  retention  and  revival. 

Retention.  —  How,  then,  shall  we  explain  the  un- 
doubted fact  that  our  experiences  do  in  a  sense  per- 
sist? How  shall  we  explain  the  fact  of  retention? 
The  modern  explanation  of  this  fact  is  based  upon, 
(1)  the  law  of  psycho-neural  correlation,  namely, 
that  every  psychosis  has  its  neurosis ;  or,  more  spe- 
cifically, that  every  mental  process  is  accompanied 
by  changes  in  the  cerebral  cortex;  and  (2)  upon  the 
law  that  a  cortical  process,  once  induced,  tends, 
under  given  conditions,  to  recur,  and  that  whatever 
conscious  processes  have  been  previously  correlated 
therewith  also  tend  to  recur.  For  example,  the  per- 
ception of  a  steamboat  is  accompanied,  according 
to  the  first  law,  by  given  changes  in  the  cortex; 
these  changes,  according  to  the  second  law  just 
stated,  tend  to  recur;  if  they  actually  do  so,  then 
we  think  of,  or  image  more  or  less  perfectly,  the 
vessel.  The  retention  of  the  consciousness  of  an 
object  or  event  depends,  accordingly,  upon  the  re- 
tention of  the  tendency  of  the  nervous  processes 
formerly  correlated  therewith  to  recur.  If  this 
tendency  fades  out,  and  if  the  function  has  not  been 
taken  over  by  some  other  cortical  area,  then  our 
knowledge  of  the  object  likewise  dies  away.  In 
brief,  the  teaching  of  modern  psychology  is  that  in 
the  course  of  experience  our  nervous  system  acquires 
tendencies,  or  dispositions,  to  act  in  certain  deter- 
minate ways ;  and  that  conscious  processes  are  cor- 


i  McDougall,   Physiological  Psychology,  1905,  p.   119. 


204  ELEMENTS   OP  PSYCHOLOGY 

related  with  some  of  these  tendencies  and  are  said 
to  be  retained  thereby.  Retention  is  a  fact  of  the 
physical  or  physiological  order;  it  is  not  a  mental 
fact  or  process  at  all.  It  is  not  the  mind,  but  the 
nervous  system  that  retains  experiences. 

The  Process  of  Revival.  —  The  retention  of  an 
earlier  experience,  we  have  said,  depends  upon  the 
physiological  fact  that  changes  once  induced  in  the 
cerebral  cortex  persist  in  the  form  of  nascent  ten- 
dencies to  recur.  Now,  the  physiological  basis  of 
revival,  or  recall,  is  the  same  as  that  of  retention, 
Vv'ith  the  one  important  difference  that  in  revival  we 
have,  instead  of  the  mere  tendencies,  or  dispositions, 
of  the  aforesaid  neural  changes  to  recur,  their  actual 
recurrence;  and  their  recurrence  is  due,  in  most 
cases,  to  the  impulses  that  spread  from  cortical 
areas  that  are  associated  with  those  excited  by  the 
original  experience.  "If,"  says  Sully,  "we  suppose 
retention  to  involve  a  persistent  state  of  suppressed 
or  nascent  excitation  in  the  central  elements  in- 
volved, we  may  say  that  revival  depends  on  a  suffi- 
cient intensification  of  this  nascent  excitation ;"  and 
it  may  be  added  that,  in  cases  of  associative  revival, 
this  "sufficient  intensification"  is  caused  by  the  irra- 
diation of  nervous  impulses  from  other  functionally 
connected  central  elements. 

So  much  for  the  physiological  conditions  of  re- 
vival. Let  us  turn  for  a  moment  to  the  mental  side. 
The  psychological  principles  which  in  the  main  con- 
trol the  revival  of  images  and  ideas  have  been  indi- 
cated already  in  our  chapter  on  Association.  It  will 
be  sufficient  at  this  point  to  recall  the  general  con- 


MEMORY  205 

elusion  stated  there,  which  was,  in  brief,  that  when 
one  of  the  members  of  an  associative  combination 
reappears,  its  earlier  associates  also  tend  to  appear. 
From  this  it  follows  that  the  most  general  condition 
of  the  revival  of  a  past  mental  process  is  the  revival 
first  of  one  of  its  earlier  associates.  Now,  the 
earlier  associate,  the  cue,  which  'suggests',  or  calls 
up,  the  particular  conscious  process,  may  be  either 
an  image  or  idea  or  perception  or  sensation.  Thus 
the  image  of  the  Liberty  Bell  recalls  thoughts  of 
when  and  where  we  first  saw  it ;  the  sight  of  a  great 
boulder  reminds  one  of  glacial  markings  we  have 
seen  elsewhere ;  a  twitch  of  pain  in  the  arm  calls  to 
mind  the  appearance  of  a  certain  sufferer  from 
rheumatism.  Memories  of  this  sort  are  awakened 
involuntarily,  in  rambling  states,  when  conscious- 
ness wanders  on  aimlessly  from  one  process  to  an- 
other. A  little  later,  we  shall  study  voluntary,  pur- 
posive, memory,  or  recollection,  and  we  shall  then 
see  that  the  mechanism  of  the  revival  itself  is  essen- 
tially the  same  as  in  passive,  involuntary  recall. 

The  Sequence  of  Imaginal  and  Ideational  Processes. 
—  One  palpable  conclusion  of  the  foregoing  discus- 
sion of  the  process  of  revival  is  that  the  most  gen- 
eral condition  of  the  revival  of  one  image  or  idea 
by  another  is  that  they  shall  have  previously  oc- 
curred together,  shall  have  been,  on  some  former 
occasion,  factors  in  the  same  'conscious  present'. 
This  general  condition  depends  in  turn,  as  we  saw, 
upon  the  law  of  neural  habit,  the  law,  namely,  that 
when  two  or  more  cortical  activities  occur  simul- 
taneously or  in  immediate  succession  the  recurrence 


206  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

of  one  of  them  tends  to  revive  the  others.  It  is, 
moreover,  generally  agreed  that  the  sequence  of  our 
imaginal  and  ideational  processes  is  controlled  by 
the  law  of  habit,  that  in  a  train  of  images  and  ideas 
the  fading  portions  are  usually  followed  by  some 
one  of  their  former  associates. 

But  since,  in  the  course  of  experience,  an  image 
or  an  idea  may  have  had  numerous  associates,  the 
question  arises  which  one  of  all  these  shall  appear 
in  its  wake  on  a  given  occasion.  The  word  'Shakes- 
peare," for  example,  very  likely  has  in  the  reader's 
mind  a  multitude  of  associates — names  of  the  poet's 
plays  and  the  characters  thereof,  the  names  of 
famous  Shakespearean  actors,  of  Shakespearean 
scholars,  of  the  poet's  contemporaries,  images  of  the 
Shakespeare  house  at  Stratford,  or  of  Shakespeare 
portraits,  thoughts  of  the  Shakespeare-Bacon  con- 
troversy, and  so  on  and  on.  At  one  time,  the  per- 
ception or  thought  of  the  name  "Shakespeare"  is 
followed  by  one  of  these;  at  another  time  by  some 
other,  and  the  question  arises,  what  determines 
which  one  of  all  these  possible  successors  shall 
actually  appear  in  a  given  instance. 

Now  it  is  clear  that  appeal  to  the  law  of  habit 
as  an  explanation  of  the  order  of  the  appearance  of 
our  images  and  ideas  carries  us  only  part  way 
toward  an  answer.  This  law  affirms  that  some  one 
of  the  earlier  sequences  tends  to  be  repeated,  but 
it  does  not  tell  us  which  one.  Otherwise  expressed, 
the  train  of  associative  revival  may  be  said  to  be 
run  by  the  law  of  habit,  but,  so  far  as  this  law  is 
concerned,  it  remains  wholly  indeterminate  in  what 


MEMORY  207 

direction,  on  what  track,  it  shall  run.  To  take  the 
instance  already  cited:  we  have  to  look  beyond  the 
general  law  of  habit  in  order  to  see  why  the  word 
'Shakespeare'  is  followed  at  one  time  by  —  'The 
Tempest' ;  at  another,  by  'Stratford' ;  at  still  another, 
by  'Portia',  and  so  on.  We  have  to  look  to  another 
set  of  influences,  sometimes  called  the  secondary 
laws  of  association,  for  light  on  this  latter  question, 
and  it  is  next  in  order  to  state  and  illustrate  some 
of  these  laws.^ 

(1)  Frequency.  The  law  of  frequency  is  that 
other  things  equal,  an  image  or  idea  which  has  been 
frequently  associated  with  another  tends,  on  its 
recurrence,  to  revive  the  other.  For  example,  the 
thought,  'text-book  of  geometry'  will  likely  recall  the 
one  used  in  studying  that  subject;  or,  the  words 
'Emancipation  Proclamation'  suggest  the  name  of 
Lincoln,  who  issued  it. 

(2)  Recency.  If  you  have  recently  associated  in 
thought  two  or  more  objects,  then  the  recurrence 
of  the  thought  of  one  of  the  objects  is  likely  to  re- 
vive the  thought  of  the  other  or  others.  Thus  the 
word  'Tennyson'  recalls  a  verse  recently  quoted  in 
our  hearing  and  ascribed  to  that  poet;  'Prima 
donna',  the  name  of  the  one  who  recently  visited  our 
city. 

(3)  Mood.  One's  temporary  emotional  state  or 
one's  mood  influences  the  trend  of  one's  images  and 
ideas.    It  is  well  known  that  when  one  is  depressed 


1  It  should  be  noted  that  some  of  the  general  conilitions  of  the 
formation  of  associative  connections,  e.  g.,  contiguity  and  fre- 
quency of  repetition,  are  also  conditions  of  associative  revival. 


208  ELEMENTS   OF  PSYCHOLOGY 

in  spirits  the  air  is  full  of  birds  of  ill-omen,  and 
that  when  one's  mood  is  joyous  the  thoughts  and 
images  that  stream  into  consciousness  are  likewise 
cheerful  and  happy.  If,  for  instance,  our  dominant 
mood  is  a  happy  one,  the  thought  of  'summer'  re- 
vives thoughts  of  bright  days,  of  flowers,  of  bab- 
bling brooks,  of  singing  birds;  but  if  it  is  gloomy, 
then  one  can  think  only  of  oppressive  heat,  sun- 
strokes, clouds  of  dust,  sleepless  nights,  and  the  like. 
(4)  Context.  Context  is  a  potent  factor  in  de- 
termining the  direction  which  a  conscious  train 
shall  take  at  a  given  moment.  To  illustrate,  l.et  us 
take  the  following  well-known  passage  from  James : 

"Why  is  it,"  he  asks,  "when  we  recite  from  memory  one 
of  these  lines: 

"I  the  heir  of  all  the  ages  in  the  foremost  files  of  time," 
and  — 

'For  I  doubt  not  through  the  ages  one  increasing  purpose 
runs', 
and  get  as  far  as  'the  ages',  that  portion  of  the  other  line 
which  follows,  and,  so  to  speak,  sprouts  out  of  'the  ages', 
does  not  also  sprout  out  of  our  memory,  and  confuse  the 
sense  of  our  words?  'Simply  because,'  he  answers,  'the  word 
that  follows  'the  ages'  has  its  brain-process  awakened  not 
simply  by  the  brain-process  of  'the  ages'  alone,  but  by  it 
plus    the   brain-processes    of    all    the   words    preceding   'the 

ages' When  the  processes  of,  'I,  the  heir  of  all 

the  ages',  simultaneously  vibrate  in  the  brain  ....  'in' 
and  not  'one'  or  any  other  word  will  be  the  next  to  awaken, 
for  its  brain-process  has  previously  vibrated  in  unison  not 
only  with  that  of  'ages',  but  with  that  of  all  those  other 
words  whose  activity  is  dying  away."i 

A  more  familiar,  even  if  more  prosaic,  illustra- 
tion of  the  influence  of  context  is  found  in  the  dif- 


1- Principles  of  Psychology,  vol.  I,  p.  567  f. 


MEMORY  209 

ferent  meanings,  the  varying  associations,  which 
many  words  have,  owing  to  change  in  contexts. 
Thus,  if  one  is  engaged  with  astronomical  matters, 
the  word  'star'  means  a  heavenly  body,  it  reminds 
us  possibly  of  other  like  bodies,  their  paths,  dis- 
tances, relations  to  one  another,  and  so  on.  But  if 
the  general  topic  of  our  discourse  is  theatres  or  ball- 
games  or  decorations,  the  meaning  and  the  revived 
associates  of  'star'  will  likely  be  very  different. 

(5)  Dominant  interest  or  purpose.  The  inter- 
est or  purpose  of  the  moment  is  perhaps  the  most 
potent  factor  in  determining  which  of  several  pos- 
sible ideas  each  of  the  successive  portions  of  a  con- 
scious train  shall  awaken.  Thus,  if  one  is  drawing 
up  a  list  of  American  poets,  the  thought  of  Long- 
fellow is  more  likely  to  be  followed  by  thoughts  of 
Whittier,  Lowell  and  Poe,  than  by  thoughts  of  Long- 
fellow's poems,  or  of  incidents  of  his  life,  or  even  of 
other  American  writers  who  are  known  only  as 
novelists.  Again,  if  one's  dominant  interest,  for  the 
time  being,  is  in  metals,  the  word  'gold'  is  more 
likely  to  revive  thoughts  of  'iron',  'zinc',  'copper', 
than  it  is  ideas  of  gold  coins,  or  gold  watches,  or 
jewelry. 

Primacy.  It  is  held  by  some  writers  that  'first  associa- 
tions' are  more  'intimate'  (in  the  sense  described  on  p.  192) 
than  later  ones.  It  is  said,  for  instance,  that  the  words 
'ocean  voyaj?e'  are  more  likely  to  be  followed  by  thoughts 
of  one's  first  voyage  than  by  those  of  later  ones;  that 
thoughts  of  the  events  of  one's  first  visit  to  a  strange  city 
are  more  likely  to  follow  the  thought  of  the  name  of  the  city 
than  are  thoughts  of  later  visits.  In  the  present  writer's 
view,  however,  it  is  doubtful  if  'primacy'  independently  of 


210  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

other  factors,  such  as  purpose,  mood,  frequency,  ever  deter- 
mines the  direction  of  associative  revival;  that  is,  unless 
first  associations  occur  in  an  intense  emotional  setting,  or 
are  frequently  repeated  or  are  otherwise  fixed,  they  are  no 
more  likely  to  recur  than  lates  ones. 

The  reader  may  have  remarked,  in  the  preceding  para- 
graphs, the  frequent  occurrence  of  the  statement,  'other 
things  equal',  so  and  so  will  or  is  likely  to  occur.  Probably 
it  would  have  been  better  to  have  said,  'in  the  absence  of 
other  influences  or  factors',  the  one  or  ones  named  will  deter- 
mine the  direction  of  associative  revival.  Thus,  to  take  a 
case  already  cited,  the  thought  of  Longfellow  will  be  followed 
by  thoughts  of  —  say  Lowell  or  Bryant  —  if  the  direction  of 
revival  is  controlled  wholly  by  our  interest  in  naming  Amer- 
ican poets.  But  if  we  have  been  recently  reading  an  account 
of  Longfellow's  memorable  visit  with  Tennyson,  then,  owing 
to  the  influence  of  recency,  our  thought  will  be  less  likely 
to  run  from  'Longfellow'  to  the  names  of  other  American 
poets  and  more  inclined  to  run  toward  the  Tennyson  visit; 
or  if  we  have  at  some  time  visited  'The  Longfellow  House' 
in  Cambridge,  and  if  our  visit  had  a  marked  emotional  color- 
ing, then,  owing  to  the  latter,  our  interest  in  naming  poets 
gives  way  to  thoughts  of  Longfellow's  Cambridge  home. 

Spontaneous  Revival.  — We  have  just  now  enumer- 
ated some  of  the  influences  which  determine  the 
sequence  of  our  imaginal  and  ideational  processes. 
We  have  seen  that  contiguity,  frequency,  recency, 
and  the  rest  are  all  grounds  for  the  succession  of 
particular  mental  states,  say  X  or  Y,  in  the  wake  of 
other  particular  mental  states,  A  or  B.  The  se- 
quence is  not  lawless,  wholly  unpredictable.  And 
yet,  "it  must  be  confessed',  says  James,  'that  an  im- 
mense number  of  terms  in  the  linked  chain  of  our 
representations  fall  outside  of  all  assignable  rule." 
Occasionally  the  sequence  of  mental  phenomena 
seems  to  fly  squarely  in  the  face  of  what  apparently 


MEMORY  211 

are  pro  tempore  the  most  potent  influences ;  and  not 
infrequently  ideas  and  images  emerge  which  are 
wholly  unrelated  to  the  preceding  conscious  waves 
and  to  the  interests  of  the  moment.  These  sudden 
and  inexplicable  revivals  are  supposed  to  be  due  to 
'accidental  alterations'  in  the  cortical  centers,  *acci- 
dental'  in  the  sense  that  their  causes  are  hidden  to 
human  knowledge.  Among  the  influences  that  at 
times  interrupt  the  normal  functioning  of  the  ner- 
vous system  and,  consequently,  the  operation  of  the 
usual  laws  of  mental  behavior,  Thorndike  enumer- 
ates 'fatigue,  drugs,  sickness,  the  decay  of  old  age, 
shock,  the  chance  variations  of  blood-pressure,  and 
metabolism'.^ 

Revival  through  Similarity. —  The  perception  or 
the  thought  of  one  of  two  objects  which  have  one  or 
more  similar  features  is  frequently  followed  by  the 
thought  of  the  other,  even  though  they  are  unlike 
in  other  respects,  and  even  though  thoughts  of  the 
objects  have  never  before  occurred  together.  For 
example,  it  is  a  frequent  occurrence  that  some  fea- 
ture or  features  of  a  strange  face  'reminds'  one  of  a 
face  which  is  well  known,  or  that  some  portion  of 
a  strange  bit  of  landscape  calls  to  mind  a  familiar 
one.  The  principle  has  a  wide  range  of  application. 
Similarity  of  any  kind,  real  or  imagined,  between 
any  two  objects  may  form  the  link  whereby  one 
passes  in  thought  from  the  one  to  the  other.  Thus, 
similarity  in  either  color,  taste,  form,  size,  softness, 
hardness,  ease,  difficulty,  position,  beauty,  ugliness, 
goodness,  badness,  fairness,  unfairness,  —  in  brief, 


1  The  Elements  of  Psychology,  1905,  p.  222. 


212  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

any  property  or  quality  which  can  be  attributed  to 
or  affirmed  of  any  two  objects  may  serve  as  the  men- 
tal bridge  from  one  to  the  other. 

In  the  earlier  text-books  of  psychology  the  usual 
way  of  accounting  for  transitions  of  this  kind  was 
to  say  that  they  fall  under  the  law  of  association  by 
similarity,  the  law  that  the  consciousness  of  a  given 
thing  tends  to  revive  images  and  ideas  of  things 
similar  thereto.  But  now  most  authors  explain 
all  cases  of  associative  revival  by  reference  to  the 
law  of  habit  operating  under  the  special  conditions 
and  limitations  described  in  the  foregoing  para- 
graphs. And  it  is  easy  to  see  that  what  occurs  in 
every  case  of  so-called  association  by  similarity  is 
that  some  feature  or  features  of  the  present  object 
—  whether  perceived,  imaged,  or  thought  of  —  at- 
tains a  certain  prominence  in  consciousness,  be- 
comes 'the  most  interesting  portion',  to  use  James' 
phrase,  and,  breaking  away  from  its  immediate 
associates,  gathers  to  itself  certain  of  its  former 
associates  which  combine  therewith  to  form  the  new 
object  of  thought.  To  illustrate:  suppose  that  while 
traveling  in  a  strange  region  I  come  upon  a  tow- 
ered church  which  immediately  reminds  me  of  a 
similar  one  I  have  known  elsewhere.  Now  the  ex- 
planation proposed  by  the  earlier  text-books  is  that 
the  present  edifice  reminds  me  of  the  one  known 
previously  because  of  the  similarity  of  the  two.  Not 
so.  The  two  structures  may  be,  in  fact,  similar ;  but 
their  similarity  is  not,  in  itself,  sufficient  ground 
for  the  appearance  of  thoughts  of  the  one  whilst  I 
am  looking  at  or  thinking  of  the  other.     The  true 


MEMORY 


213 


explanation  of  such  cases  is  that  the  thought  of 
some  feature  of  the  present  object  revives  certain 
of  its  earlier  associates,  which,  in  our  illustration, 
are  the  tower,  and  other  architectural  features,  the 
particular  location,  surroundings,  and  so  on,  of  a 
formerly  known  church  building. 

The  accompanying  figure 
(33)  from  Judd,  together 
with  his  description,  make 
plain  the  case  of  association 
through  similarity.  He  writes, 
"The  circle  A  represents  a 
single  feature  of  the  [build- 
ing] now  seen;  b,  b,  b,  are 
the  other  features.  In  a  past 
experience,  A  has  been  part 
of  a  system  of  features  of 
which  c,  c,  c,  were  the  others. 
If  A- becomes  the  subject  of 
special  attention,  it  can  Re- 
vive the  elements,  c,  c,  c,  and 
thus  detach  itself  from  b,  b,  b, 
the  features  of  the  present 
complex  in  which  it  stands."^ 
Which  of  the  'interesting  por- 
tion's' associates  (i.  e.,  which 
of  A's  earlier  associates,  shall, 
in  a  given  case,  be  revived 
depends  upon  the  influences  already  enumerated, 
namely,  frequency,  recency,  context,  dominant  pur- 
pose, and  so  forth. 


Fig.  33.  "The  full-drawn 
circles  represent  the 
elements  of  the  pres- 
ent experience.  Of 
these  elements  A 
attaches  itself  also 
to  the  system  of  ele- 
ments represented  by 
the  dotted  line  cir- 
cles. A,  when  taken 
with  the  circles  b,  b, 
b,  constituteis  the 
present  experience ; 
A,  when  taken  with 
the  circles  c,  c,  c, 
constitutes  the  re- 
called experience.  A 
is  obviously  the  cen- 
ter of  relations  be- 
tween the  two  sys- 
tems."      (Judd). 


iJUDD^  Psychology,  1907,  235. 


214  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

It  is  true  that  in  cases  of  revival  through  similarity,  the 
reviving  and  the  revived  object  are  in  some  respect  similar; 
but  the  revival  does  not  occur  because  of  our  having  first 
noted  the  similarity  of  the  two  objects.  In  fact,  the  simi- 
larity is  observed,  if  at  all,  after  the  revival  occurs,  not  be- 
fore: so  it  cannot  be  maintained  that  the  thought  thereof 
causes  us  to  think  of  the  one  object  after  thinking  of  the 
other.  Psychologically,  the  fact  of  similarity  has  nothing 
whatever  to  do  with  the  fact  of  revival.  This  latter  depends 
wholly  upon  habit,  as  previously  defined,  and  upon  the  vary- 
ing influences  of  context,  recency,  vividness,  and  the  other 
factors  previously  enumerated. 

Active  and  Passive  Recall  Distinguished. — In  rev- 
ery,  in  day-dreaming,  or  when  musing,  the  process 
of  revival  proceeds  spontaneously,  and  the  compo- 
nents of  the  conscious  stream  rise  and  disappear  as 
if  by  chance.  Strikingly  different  from  this  aimless 
flight  of  one  conscious  process  after  another  is  that 
restoration  of  images  and  ideas  which  is  guided  and 
controlled  by  a  definite  purpose.  This  latter  process 
is  ordinarily  called  voluntary,  or  active,  recall,  or 
perhaps  better  still  —  recollection.  We  have  now  to 
inquire  in  what  respects  it  differs  from  passive,  or 
involuntary,  recall,  or  mere  remembrance.  We 
have  to  ask,  that  is,  in  what  ways  the  presence  of  a 
definite  purpose  modifies  the  course  of  revival. 

The  mode  in  which  a  definitely  conceived  end 
operates  in  active  revival  is  very  clearly  seen  in 
one's  effort  to  recall  a  forgotten  name.  Suppose,  to 
fix  our  thoughts,  that  the  purpose  is  to  recall  the 
name  of  a  certain  German  philosopher.  We  know 
the  name  perfectly,  but  at  the  moment  it  refuses  to 
come.  How  do  we  proceed  to  recall  it?  The  answer 
is  very  simple.    We  dwell  upon  the  revived  images, 


MEMORY  215 

thoughts,  sensations,  feelings,  which  we  know  are 
related  to  the  forgotten  name  and  neglect  those 
which  are  not;  and  presently  through  an  accumu- 
lation of  resuscitative  tendencies,  or  through  the 
agency  of  some  one  which  at  the  moment  is  espe- 
cially effective  for  the  revival  of  this  particular 
name,  our  quest  is  successfully  concluded.  Thus, 
the  philosopher  whose  name  we  are  seeking,  lec- 
tured at  Heidelberg ;  his  manner  was  oratorical ;  my 
friend  H.  carried  a  letter  of  introduction  to  him 
when  he  went  to  Germany;  in  appearance  he  re- 
sembled slightly  a  well-known  American  philoso- 
pher; one  of  his  books  was  translated  into  English; 
an  appreciation  of  his  life  and  works  recently  ap- 
peared in  a  certain  philosophical  journal;  I  think 
his  name  begins  with  F;  but  it  isn't  Fichte;  Fichte 
belongs  to  an  earlier  generation;  the  sound  of  'r' 
occurs  in  the  name;  but  it  is  not  Franke,  or  Fried- 
mann  or  Fritsch ;  it  is  Fischer  —  Kuno  Fischer  — 
Certainly!  In  all  cases  of  voluntary  recall  we  pro- 
ceed in  the  same  way.  If  it  is  the  date  of  a  given 
historical  event  which  we  are  trying  to  recover,  we 
fix  its  place  by  recalling  its  known  associates,  the 
names  of  persons  living  at  the  time,  the  dates  of 
other  historical  events  known  to  be  related  to  the 
one  whose  date  we  are  now  seeking;  or  if  it  is  a 
quotation,  which  we  have  heard  a  given  speaker 
use  with  great  effectiveness,  we  begin  by  thinking 
of  the  speaker,  the  occasion,  the  part  of  the  address 
in  which  it  occurred,  its  general  purport,  its  length, 
whether  prose  or  verse,  the  meter,  the  general  'feel' 
of  the  words  —  everything,  in  short,  which  is  known 


216  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

to  be  in  any  way  connected  with  the  forgotten 
words.  To  repeat :  in  searching  for  forgotten  items 
—  forgotten  names,  dates,  places,  quotations  —  we 
run  back  and  forth  in  thought  over  everything 
which  we  know  to  be  related  thereto.  When  the 
object  of  our  search  does  finally  burst  forth  it  is 
due  primarily  to  the  resuscitative  energy  of  these 
revived  associates. 

Now  if  we  take  the  pains  to  run  over  and  to  dwell 
upon  all  the  facts  and  circumstances  which  are  in 
any  way  related  to  the  lost  name,  (or  date  or  quo- 
tation) it  is  likely  to  appear  during  the  quest.  Some- 
times, however,  the  immediate  outcome  is  failure. 
Now  if,  at  some  later  time,  the  sought-for  item 
leisurely  rolls  into  consciousness,  it  is  because,  as  we 
may  suppose,  the  cortical  processes,  initiated  during 
the  active  seeking,  continued  until  they  spread  to 
those  centers  which  are  correlated  with  the  object 
of  our  original  search.  In  still  other  instances,  our 
failure  is  permanent,  and  the  explanation  is  again 
in  terms  of  nervous  process;  that  is,  the  failure  on 
the  mental  side  is  due  to  the  failure  of  the  nervous 
processes  which  have  been  excited  during  the  active 
search  to  shoot  into  and  rouse  the  neural  correlates 
of  the  forgotten  fact. 

Memory  and  Imagery,  —  We  saw  in  our  section  on 
'Individual  Differences  in  Mental  Imagery'  (p.  146 
ff )  that  there  is  an  enormous  variation  in  the  wealth 
and  character  of  the  imagery  of  different  individ- 
uals, that  the  remembering,  thinking,  planning  of 
some  persons  consist  of  rich  and  varied  imagery 
and  that  the  imagery  of  others  is  poor,  schematic, 


MEMORY  217 

fleeting.  It  is  unnecessary  to  repeat  in  this  connec- 
tion what  was  said  thefe;  but  it  is  in  place  to  em- 
phasize the  fact  of  variation  as  regards  the  part 
which  imagery  plays  in  the  memory  consciousness. 
Thus  one  person  affirms  that  all  his  memories  con- 
sist of  images  of  the  things  remembered.  His  mem- 
ory of  a  certain  ball  game,  or  of  Irving's  Hamlet, 
of  a  holiday  parade,  of  the  events  of  a  thrilling 
story,  consists  wholly  of  images  of  the  original  expe- 
rience. He  would  affirm  —  'no  images  means,  for 
me,  no  memory'.  Another  person  will  assure  us 
that  his  memories  seldom  if  ever  consist  of  images 
of  the  remembered  experiences;  nevertheless,  he 
regards  them  as  perfectly  trustworthy.  He  remem- 
bers that  on  a  given  occasion  he  saw  Mr.  Irving  and 
Miss  Terry  in  Faust,  that  on  another  he  heard 
Melba,  and  that  on  still  another  he  visited  the  mu- 
seum at  X.  He  may  be  able  to  give  a  minute  de- 
scription of  the  acting,  the  singing,  and  the  museum ; 
but  he  is  unable  to  revive  a  single  image  of  any  of 
them.  His  recollection  of  these  experiences  consists 
wholly  of  verbal  descriptions  of  them.  His  mem- 
ory belongs  to  the  verbal,  or  symbolic,  type  as  de- 
scribed above.  So,  if  it  be  asked,  does  the  memory 
of  a  former  experience  always  involve  more  or  less 
of  imagery  of  the  experience?  we  must  answer  — 
for  some  persons.  Yes;  for  others.  No.  Of  course, 
between  these  extremes  lie  numberless  gradations 
in  reference  to  the  place  which  images  hold  in  indi- 
viduals' memories  of  concrete  experiences. 

We   have   just   referred   to   the   vast   differences 
among  individuals  in  respect  to  the  prominence  of 


218  ELEMENTS   OF  PSYCHOLOGY 

imagery  in  their  memory  experiences.  A  like  wide 
range  of  variation  is  frequently  observable  in  the 
place  which  images  hold  in  a  given  individual's 
memories.  Thus,  a  person  whose  memories  ordi- 
narily are  replete  with  imagery  often  remarks  that 
a  particular  one  is  devoid  of  imagery  of  any  sort; 
or  if  present  at  all,  it  is  fleeting  and  shadowy  and 
consists  merely  of  faint  images  of  words  seen  or 
heard.  To  illustrate :  if  the  reader,  even  though  he 
be  of  the  imaginal  type,  will  run  over  some  of  his 
experiences  of  a  decade  ago  —  villages  visited,  per- 
sons seen,  festal  occasions,  work  performed — he  will 
not  unlikely  find  that  his  memory  of  some  of  them, 
while  perfectly  definite,  is  extremely  colorless,  and 
consists  almost  entirely  of  verbal  signs.  Thus  the 
writer,  who  is  of  the  imaginal  type,  recalls  perfectly 
well  that  a  few  years  ago  he  spent  an  hour  or  so  in 
a  certain  village  waiting  for  a  train ;  but  no  images 
of  the  town  arise.  Its  name  awakens  the  bare 
thought  —  waited  -  there  -  for  -  train  to  N.,  and,  at 
times,  a  feeble  echo  of  the  restlessness  or  impatience 
of  the  original  experience,  a  kind  of  waiting-for-a- 
train  uneasiness. 

Individual  Differences  in  Memory,  —  The  term 
'memory'  is  sometimes  used  popularly  to  refer  either 
to  the  processes  involved  in  acquiring  knowledge  or 
to  the  function  whereby  it  is  retained  or  to  the 
power  to  recall  it.  Thus,  there  are  in  current  use 
many  such  expressions  as  —  receptive  memory,  re- 
tentive memory,  ready  memory,  which,  while  they 
are  descended  from  an  obsolete  psychology  and  so 
connote  doctrines  as  to  the  nature  of  the  mind  which 


MFMORY  219 

are  no  longer  held,  still  do  point  to  well  attested 
facts  in  reference  to  individual  differences  in  mental 
constitution.  It  may  be  remarked,  in  passing,  that 
the  language  ordinarily  employed  to  describe  these 
differences  is  necessarily,  in  the  present  state  of  our 
knowledge,  figurative  to  the  last  degree. 

In  the  first  place,  minds  differ  enormously  in 
respect  to  their  receptiveness.  At  the  one  extreme 
are  the  plastic,  impressionable  minds  which  acquire 
knowledge  with  great  ease  and  rapidity ;  at  the  other 
extreme  are  the  stubborn,  impervious,  indurate 
minds.  Between  these  extremes  there  are  naturally 
many  gradations  of  receptiveness.  Minds  differ 
also  as  regards  their  retentiveness.  They  are  either 
strong  or  weak,  tenacious  or  feeble.  "Some  minds," 
as  James  observes,  "are  like  wax  under  a  seal  —  no 
impression,  however  disconnected  with  others,  is 
wiped  out.  Others,  like  a  jelly,  vibrate  to  every 
touch,  but  under  usual  co^iditions,  retain  no  per- 
manent mark."  Between  these  extremes,  we  find 
numerous  grades  of  retentiveness.  In  the  third 
place,  there  are  clearly  marked  individual  variations 
in  the  readiness  and  accuracy  with  which  expe- 
riences are  recalled.  One  mind  is  quick,  ready, 
definite;  another  is  slow  and  indefinite. 

An  individual  variation  of  the  memory  function, 
closely  related  to  the  one  last  mentioned,  is  in 
respect  to  what  Stout  calls  its  'serviceableness', 
"the  readiness  with  which  what  is  relevant  to  the 
prevailing  interest  of  the  moment  is  reproduced." 

"  'A  memory  may  be  extremely  extensive',  Stout  continues, 
'without  being  in  this  sense  serviceable.     Dominie  Sampson's 


220  ELEMENTS   OF  PSYCHOLOGY 

mind,  as  described  by  Scott,  was  like  'the  magazine  of  a 
pawnbroker,  stowed  with  goods  of  every  description,  but  so 
cumbrously  piled  together,  and  in  such  total  disorganization, 
that  the  owner  can  never  lay  his  hands  on  any  one  article 
at  the  moment  he  has  occasion  for  it.' '" 

The  obvious  remedy  (or  preventive)  for  the  con- 
fusion in  the  pawnshop  and  in  the  Dominie's  mind 
alike  is  found  in  the  organization,  the  classification 
of  the  contents  thereof. 

There  are  also  certain  well-known  variations 
among  these  three  functions  themselves.  The  pop- 
ular (and,  in  part,  misleading)  way  of  denoting 
them  is  to  say  that  some  persons  learn  easily,  but 
soon  forget;  that  others  learn  slowly,  but  retain 
long  what  is  once  learned;  that  still  others  possess 
retentive  memories,  but  are  exasperatingly  slow  and 
uncertain  in  recalling  what  they  know.  It  should  be 
remembered,  of  course,  that  these  everyday  expres- 
sions are  not  statements  of  laws  as  to  the  relations 
which  obtain  between  one  aspect  of  the  memory 
function  and  another;  they  merely  denote  some  of 
their  frequently  observed  variations. 

Again,  common  observation  teaches  that  our 
memories  are  highly  specialized  functions,  that  a 
person  may  have  a  good  memory  for  one  class  of 
objects,  and  poor  for  others.  We  have  a  striking 
instance  of  the  specialization  of  the  memory  func- 
tion in  the  case  of  the  artist  who  could  paint  a  por- 
trait of  a  face  seen  but  once,  but  could  not  learn  the 
multiplication  table ;  also  in  that  of  the  chess  player 
who  played  blindfolded  several  games  of  chess  at 


^A  Manual  of  Psychology,  1899,  p.  437. 


MEMORY  221 

the  same  time,  but  was  unable  to  memorize  a  para- 
graph of  prose;  and  again  in  the  case  of  the  musi- 
cian who  could  reproduce  difficult  musical  selections 
after  hearing  them  once,  but  was  unable  to  repeat 
the  months  of  the  year  in  their  order.  All  these,  to 
repeat,  are  illustrations  of  the  fact  that  'the  mem- 
ory', really  consists  of  a  multitude  of  specialized 
functions,  and  that  in  a  given  individual  these  may 
be  highly  developed  in  relative  independence  of  one 
another,  that  memory  for  one  class  of  objects  or 
experiences  may  be  good  while  for  others  it  is  poor, 
that  there  is  no  warrant  for  thinking  that  good  mem- 
ory for  some  things  necessarily  means  good  memory 
for  all  things. 

Certain  phenomena  of  mental  disease,  due  to  par- 
ticular brain  disorders,  furnish  further  ground  for 
thinking  that  different  'memories'  exist  in  relative 
independence  of  one  another.  Thus  it  is  found  that 
in  certain  morbid  mental  states,  memory  for  one 
class  of  facts  is  lost  while  for  others  it  remains  in- 
tact. Ribot  quotes  the  case  of  a  person  who  'having 
received  a  blow  on  the  head,  lost  all  his  knowledge 
of  Greek,  although  his  memory  was  otherwise  un- 
impaired'; also  that  of  a  child  who,  after  a  period 
of  unconsciousness  due  to  a  severe  blow  on  the  head, 
was  found  to  have  forgotten  all  that  he  had  learned 
of  music.  Nothing  else  was  lost.  Other  patients 
suffering  from  fatigue  or  brain  injury  often  forget 
all  proper  names,  even  their  own,  yet  retain  other 
faculties  intact.  In  other  cases,  they  remember  the 
use  of  common  articles,  as  of  food  or  furniture,  but 
have  forgotten  all  names.     In  still  others,  the  pa- 


222  ELEMENTS   OF  PSYCHOLOGY 

tients  understand  spoken  words,  but  written  words 
mean  nothing. 

Cramming.  —  Among  students  and  teachers  con- 
siderable interest  attaches  to  the  question  as  to  the 
value  of  cramming  as  a  mode  of  study,  meaning  by 
'cramming',  "that  way  of  preparing  for  examina- 
tions by  committing  'points'  to  memory  during  a 
few  hours  or  days  of  intense  application  immediately 
preceding  the  final  ordeal,  little  or  no  work  having 
been  performed  during  the  previous  course  of  the 
term."  (James).  Perhaps  a  few  students  would  be 
pleased  to  find  sound  arguments  in  support  of  this 
method  of  meeting  college  requirements,  since  it  fits 
in  so  well  with  their  own  inclinations  and  with 
their  own  ideals  of  student  life ;  that  is,  they  would 
like  to  find  ground  for  believing  that  it  is  just  as 
profitable  from  the  educational  standpoint  to  spend 
the  days  and  weeks  of  the  term  on  matters  far  re- 
moved from  class-room  work,  and  then  by  heroic 
effort,  during  the  examination  period,  make  grades 
which  will  warrant  their  instructors  in  giving  them 
term  credit.  Again,  for  a  certain  type  of  student 
there  is  something  about  the  idea  of  cramming  up 
for  examinations  and  passing  them  that  appeals  to 
his  love  of  display  and  to  his  natural  desire  to  show 
his  power,  as  he  supposes,  to  do  in  a  short  time  what 
requires  weeks  or  months  of  diligent  application  on 
the  part  of  ordinary  mortals.  He  has  a  lofty  con- 
tempt for  the  student  who  plods  along  day  by  day 
and  who  is  unable  to  perform  great  feats  on  short 
notice. 


MEMORY  223 

But  our  smiles  at  the  vanities  of  the  imaginary 
student  give  way  to  soberness  when  such  competent 
thinkers  and  scholars  as  Jevons,  Verdon,  Sully  and 
others  remind  us  that  cramming  has  a  good  as  well 
as  a  bad  side.  Jevons,  for  example,  points  to  what 
he  describes  as,  "a  popular  but  wholly  erroneous 
notion  that  what  boys  learn  at  school  and  college 
should  be  useful  knowledge  indelibly  impressed  upon 
the  mind,  so  as  to  stay  there  all  their  lives."  And 
Sully  claims  that  "cramming  has  a  value  of  its  own" 
because  what  is  thus  learned  is  easily  forgotten. 
And  this.  Sully  maintains,  "is  a  distinct  advantage 
in  many  of  the  practical  affairs  of  life;  otherwise, 
the  mind  would  be  encumbered  and  our  brain-powers 
far  more  narrowly  limited  than  they  now  are.  .  . 
.  .  .  Wherever  the  matter  acquired  is  merely  of 
temporary  interest,  the  power  of  casting  it  off  is  a 
clear  advantage."  ^ 

Now,  it  can  not  be  doubted  that,  in  practical  af- 
fairs, men  are  occasionally  required  to  memorize  by 
intense  application  a  mass  of  data  that  have  no  per- 
manent value;  they  are  useful  merely  for  the  occa- 
sion and  had  better  be  forgotten  as  soon  as  that  is 
past.  Carpenter  illustrates  this  fact  from  the  prac- 
tice of  the  law.  An  attorney  is  sometimes  required, 
he  says,  to  work  up  by  intense  application  the  mat- 
ters of  fact  involved  in  a  suit  which  has  only  tem- 
porary interest.  In  such  cases,  it  is  clearly  an  ad- 
vantage to  be  able  to  forget  speedily  the  details  of 
the  matter,  thus  leaving  the  mind  free  for  other 
problems  and  interests. 


'  The  Human  Mind,  vol.   I,   p.   350  f. 


224  ELEMENTS   OF  PSYCHOLOGY 

But  this  is  not  the  whole  story.  The  following 
sentences  from  James  place  the  matter  in  a  wholly 
different  light.     He  writes :  — 

"In  mental  terms,  the  more  other  facts  a  fact  is  asso- 
ciated with  in  the  mind  the  better  possession  of  it  our  mem- 
ory retains.  Each  of  its  associations  becomes  a  hook  to 
which  it  hangs,  a  means  to  fish  it  up  by  when  sunk  beneath 
the  surface.  Together,  they  form  a  network  of  attachments 
by  which  it  is  woven  into  the  entire  tissue  of  our  thought. 
The  secret  of  a  good  memory  is  thus  the  secret  of  forming 
multiple  and  diverse  associations  with  every  fact  we  care  to 

retain But  things  learned  in  a  few  hours,  on 

one  occasion,  for  one  purpose,  cannot  possibly  have  formed 
many  associations  with  other  things  in  the  mind.  Their 
brain-processes  are  led  into  by  few  paths,  and  are  relatively 
little  liable  to  be  awakened  again.  Speedy  oblivion  is  the 
almost  inevitable  fate  of  all  that  is  committed  to  memory  in 
this  simple  way'"  The  retention  of  facts  depends,  in  other 
words,  upon  their  having  formed  'multiple  and  diverse  asso- 
ciations' with  other  facts;  and  since  this,  ordinarily,  requires 
time,  the  ineffectiveness  of  cramming  is  evident  if  our  pur- 
pose is  to  retain  what  we  learn. 

A  highly  instructive  case  is  cited  by  Ribot  from 
Abercrombie's  Intellectual  Poivers  of  an  actor  who, 
in  consequence  of  the  sudden  illness  of  another  per- 
former, was  called  upon  to  take  the  latter's  'part' : — 

"He  acquired  it  in  a  very  short-  time,  and  went  through 
with  it  with  perfect  accuracy,  but  immediately  after  the 
performance  forgot  every  word  of  it.  Characters  which  he 
has  acquired  in  a  more  deliberate  manner  he  never  forgets, 
but  can  perform  them  at  any  time  without  a  moment's 
preparation;  but  as  regards  the  character  now  mentioned 
there  was  the  further  and  very  singular  fact  that  although 
he  has  repeatedly  performed  it  since  that  time,  he  has  been 


'^Principles  of  Psychology,  vol.  I,  p.   662  f. 


MEMORY  225 

obliged  each  time  to  prepare  it  anew,  and  has  never  acquired 
in  regard  to  it  that  facility  which  is  familiar  to  him  in  other 
instances." 

It  would  be  difficult  to 'find  a  more  impressive 
illustration  of  the  futility  of  cramming  as  a  mode  of 
study,  provided,  permanence  of  attainment  is  the 
chief  purpose.  It  illustrates,  in  the  first  place,  the 
proverb,  'quickly  won,  quickly  lost' ;  and,  secondly, 
it  suggests  the  curious  fact,  if  fact  it  be,  that  mem- 
orizing a  thing  by  the  method  of  intense  application 
entails  a  hindrance  to  its  ever  becoming  a  perma- 
nent possession,  even  though  more  rational  methods 
be  employed  in  relearning  it. 

Were  this  the  proper  place,  it  would  be  worth 
while  to  follow  out  the  educational  implications  of 
the  two  views  of  cramming  just  outlined.  We  might 
inquire,  for  example,  to  what  extent  the  theory  of 
formal  discipline  underlies  the  teachings  of  those 
who  defend  it;  also  what,  if  any,  ground  can  be 
found  for  the  view  that  in  our  school  studies  method 
is  everything  and  that  matter  is  relatively  unimpor- 
tant. But  these  inquiries  would  take  us  too  far 
afield.  So  far  as  the  educational  issues  are  con- 
cerned, they  may  be  summed  up  in  Titchener's 
words  :  'Cramming  is  bad,  if  you  want  to  remember, 
good,  if  you  want  to  forget,  what  you  have  learned'.^ 

Prodigious  Memories. — This  topic  can  hardly  be  accounted 
complete  until  it  includes  one  or  two  specimens  of  the  olden 
time  stories  of  prodigious  memories.  The  earlier  gener- 
ations of  teachers  of  'Mental  Philosophy'  probably  employed 
them  as  models  of  scholarly  attainment  for  their  more  ambi- 


»A  Primer  of  Psychology,  1907,  p.   137. 
15 


226  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

tious  pupils;  and  also,  one  may  fancy,  to  humble  the  pride 
of  the  haughty  collegians  of  their  day. 

It  is  interesting  to  the  student  of  the  history  of  education 
to  observe  that  most  of  the  stories  of  marvelous  memories, 
as  told   in  the  older   books  on  psychology,  are  accounts  of 
prodigious  feats  of  remembering  words.     To  this  class  be- 
longs  the   oft   quoted   passage   from    Seneca's   Declamations, 
vi^herein  he  says  that  at  one  time  he  was  able  to  repeat  two 
thousand   names   read   to   him   in  the  order   in  which   they 
had  been   spoken;   and   that  on   one   occasion,   when   at   his 
studies,   he   repeated   in    reverse   order   two   hundred   discon- 
nected verses  which  had  been  recited  by  other  pupils  at  the 
school.     Likewise,  the  philosopher  Leibnitz's  ability  to  repeat 
the  whole  of  the  Aeneid  was  due  chiefly  to  his  preternatural 
word  memory.     More  remarkable  still  is  the  account  given 
first  by  Muretus  and  quoted  here  from  Hamilton's  Lectures 
on  Metaphysics^  of  the  word  memory  possessed  by  a  certain 
Corsican   youth    of   the    sixteenth   century,    Guilio    Guidi    by 
name  —  Guidi  della  gran  memoria  —  the  people  called  him. 
Guidi,  as  the  story  runs,  at  Muretus'  request  gave  on  a  cer- 
tain occasion  a  specimen  of  his  power  "before  a  considerable 
party    of    distinguished    auditors."      The    party    assembled, 
Muretus   began   to   dictate  words,   Latin,   Greek,   barbarous, 
significant  and  non-significant,  disjointed  and  connected  until 
he  wearied  himself,  the  young  man  who  wrote  them  down  and 
the    audience   who    were    present.      "All    save    the    Corsican 
were  marvelously  tired,"  says  Muretus.     Then,  continues  the 
account,  "vidi  facinus  mixificissimum,  the  youth  repeated  the 
whole  list  of  words,  in  the  same  order  in  which  they  had 
ben   delivered,    without,   the    slightest    hesitation;    then    com- 
mencing from  the  last„   he  repeated  them  backwards  till  he 
came  to  the  first;  then   again  so  that  he  spoke  the  first,  the 
third,   the  fifth   and   so    on   in    any    order   that   was    asked." 
Hamilton    admits    that    Muretus'    ""trustworthiness    was    not 
quite  as  transcendent  as.  his  genius;"  but  concerning  this  par- 
ticular record,  he  found,  evidence  which  convinced  him  of  the 
truth  of  the  account.      We  are   not   concerned   here  partic- 


^  Lectures  on  Metaph/ysios,  Lecture  X^vX. 


MEMORY  227 

ularly  about  the  absolute  truthfulness  of  the  story;  we  may, 
however,  without  being  over  credulous,  believe  that  there 
was  a  sixteenth  century  Corsican  youth  greatly  famed  for 
his  preternatural  word  memory;  we  are  chiefly  interested  in 
the  story  as  a  record  of  the  prodigious  capacity  for  a  mem- 
ory feat  of  a  special  kind. 

REFERENCES 

Angell:   Psychology,  Ch.  IX. 

James:    Principles   of  Psychology,   Vol.   1,   Chs.   XIV,   XVI. 

Judd:   Psychology,  Ch.  IX. 

Pillsbury:  The  Essentials  of  Psychology,  Chs.  VI,  VIII. 

Stout:  A  Manual  of  Psychology,  Book  IV,  Chs.  II,  III. 

Titchener:  A  Text-Book  of  Psychology,  §§  112-118. 


CHAPTER  X 

IMAGINATION 

Definition.  —  It  will  be  well  at  the  outset  to  clear 
our  minds  of  two  widespread  misconceptions  re- 
garding the  nature  of  the  Imagination.  One  of 
these  is  that  imagination  is  a  special  compartment 
of  the  mind  in  which  imagining  occurs.  According 
to  the  other,  the  imagination  is  a  kind  of  instrument 
which  the  mind  uses  in  imagining  in  much  the  same 
way  that  a  weaver  uses  a  loom  in  weaving  rugs,  or 
a  sculptor  his  mallet  and  chisel  in  cutting  marble. 
Now,  we  have  seen  elsewhere,  that  psychologists  no 
longer  speak  of  the  mind  as  composed  of  compart- 
ments, nor  do  they  think  of  it  as  some  sort  of  reign- 
ing power  within  us  which  works  with  certain  im- 
plements called  memory,  imagination,  judgment, 
and  the  like.  Instead  of  describing  imagination  in 
this  figurative  way,  let  us  define  it  broadly  as  that 
kind  of  centrally  initiated  mental  activity  whereby 
our  images  of  objects,  in  respect  to  their  nature  and 
their  relations,  undergo  changes.  The  nature  of 
this  kind  of  mental  activity  can  be  made  clearer  by 
considering  certain  of  its  typical  forms. 

Types  of  Imaginative  Activity.  —  There  is  a  wide- 
spread notion  that  imaginative  activity  is  an  alto- 
gether orderless  process.  It  is  evident  on  reflection, 
however,  that  it  ordinarily  follows  certain  types,  or 
patterns,  some  of  which  we  shall  now  describe. 

(228; 


IMAGINATION  229 

Perhaps  the  most  common  class  of  imaginative 
constructions  is  that  in  which  objects  as  wholes,  or 
some  parts  or  qualities  or  attributes  thereof,  are 
isolated,  then  transferred  to  and  combined  with 
other  objects  or  attributes  or  situations.  The  proc- 
ess is  sometimes  described  as  one  of  separation  and 
combination.  Castles  in  the  air,  images  of  one's 
self  occupying  a  place  of  power  and  authority,  the 
Chimera,  the  centaur  and  the  Harpies  of  Greek 
mythology,  a  mermaid,  the  winged  fairies  and  the 
fairly-land,  are  the  stock  examples  of  this  kind  of 
imaginative  constructions. 

A  special  form  of  the  type  of  imaginative  activity 
just  mentioned  consists  in  comparing  ideal  to  phys- 
ical objects,  particularly  in  ascribing  to  ideal  objects 
patterns  or  orders  of  arrangement  or  occurrence, 
observed  in  physical  objects,  or  in  the  symbolic  rep- 
resentation of  the  former.  Prosaic  examples  are  — 
likening  mental  development  to  the  growth  of  a 
plant,  or  the  structure  of  human  society  to  that  of 
a  complex  animal  organism.  Many  of  the  creations 
of  poetic  fancy  are  clearly  due  to  this  type  of  imagi- 
native procedure.  For  example,  'Justice'  is  pictured 
as  blindfolded  and  bearing  a  sword  and  balanced 
scales ;  a  human  figure  holding  aloft  a  lighted  torch 
is  'Liberty  Enlightening  the  World' ;  a  presidential 
candidate  is  'a  plumed  knight  throwing  his  shining 
lance  full  and  fair,  etc' ;  the  soul  of  Milton  was  'like 
a  star  and  dwelt  apart'. 

The  form  of  imaginative  activity  just  described 
shades  gradually  into  the  purely  aesthetic  imagina- 
tion and  the  creative  genius  of  the  artist.    The  alle- 


^30  ELEMENTS   OF  PSYCHOLOGY 

gories,  parables,  fables,  metaphors,  personifications 
which  abound  in  the  literatures  of  all  peoples,  the 
works  of  sculptors  and  painters  which  symbolize 
human  qualities,  fancies,  ideals,  aspirations  and 
achievements,  the  creations  of  the  masters  in  the 
world  of  music,  are  familiar  illustrations  of  this 
form  of  imaginative  construction. 

In  another  kind  of  imaginative  activity  the  prob- 
lem is  to  complete  a  whole,  some  of  its  parts  being 
given.  Striking  instances  of  this  type  are  seen  in 
the  artist's  restoration  of  the  lost  fragments  of  a 
Grecian  statue,  in  the  paleographer's  reproduction 
of  the  obliterated  portions  of  an  ancient  inscription, 
in  the  archaeologist's  conjectures  as  to  the  use  of  im- 
plements found  in  the  ruins  of  the  dwelling  places 
of  prehistoric  man,  and  in  the  paleontologist's  recon- 
struction of  an  extinct  animal  form  from  a  few  frag- 
ments of  discovered  bones. 

Still  other  types  are  those  in  which  we  imagine 
changes  in  the  size,  duration,  or  intensity  of  per- 
ceived or  imaged  objects.  The  giants  and  pygmies 
of  Gulliver's  Travels  are  familiar  examples  of  the 
first  sort  of  imaginative  changes,  i.  e.,  in  respect  to 
size.  Impressive  pictures  of  the  prolongation  of  cer- 
tain kinds  of  experiences  are  given  in  the  mediaeval 
portrayal  of  the  never  ending  torture  of  the  wicked 
(duration).  The  intensity  of  our  experiences  is 
readily  susceptible  to  imaginary  change.  For  in- 
stance, we  may  easily  picture  the  brightness  of  the 
moon  much  greater  than  we  have  ever  known  it,  and 
that  of  the  brightest  sun  fading  into  blackness. 


IMAGINATION  231 

The  Limits  of  Imagination. — To  the  popuhir  mind, 
the  term  'creations  of  the  imagination'  means,  on  the 
one  hand,  weird  and  fantastic  mental  pictures,  the 
phantoms  of  heat  oppressed  brains,  romances,  de- 
lusions, and  all  manner  of  unrealities ;  and  on  the 
other,  it  means  the  great  creations  of  artistic  genius, 
which  far  surpass  the  powers  of  ordinary  mortals. 
From  this  conception  of  the  nature  of  imagination 
it  is  only  a  step  to  the  belief  that  there  is  a  touch  of 
the  miraculous  in  its  works,  that  imagination  in 
some  measure  transcends  the  limits  of  the  world  of 
experience  and  in  fact  creates  things  wholly  new  to 
earth  and  sky. 

Over  against  this  tendency  to  ascribe  somewhat 
of  the  supernatural  to  the  imagination  stand  the 
sobering  words  of  Locke  that,  "the  mind  can  frame 
unto  itself  no  one  new  simple  idea;"  and  those  of 
Sully  that,  "all  imaginative  activity  is  limited  by 
experience ;  .  .  .  .  there  can  be  no  such  thing  as 
a  perfectly  nev>^  creation."  Imagination  is  not  a 
process  of  constructing  new  forms  out  of  new  ele- 
ments of  its  own  creation.  Its  work  consists  in  re- 
arranging and  recasting  perceived  and  imaged  ob- 
jects. As  the  builder  requires  raw  materials  in  the 
form  of  bricks  and  stone  and  mortar,  so  the  imagi- 
nation for  its  constructions  requires  a  fund  of  raw 
materials  in  the  form  of  perceptual  and  imaginal 
experiences.  Even  the  genius  of  a  Milton  or  a  Mo- 
zart or  a  Shakespeare  in  no  case  transcends  the  lim- 
its of  experience.  The  characteristics  of  Milton's 
Satan,  for  example,  are  only  the  traits  of  ordinary 
mortals  rearranged,  intensified,  and  magnified.  Mil- 
ton's genius  consisted  not  in  imagining  absolutely 


232  ELEMENTS   OF  PSYCHOLOGY 

new  qualities,  emotions,  sentiments,  motives,  de- 
sires, but  in  doing  marvelous  things  with  those 
which  everyday  experience  and  observation  fur- 
nishes. 

We  have  just  pointed  out  that  the  raw  materials, 
the  elements  of  our  imaginative  constructions,  are 
furnished  by  the  experiences  of  our  daily  life.  It  is 
in  order  to  observe  next  that  the  patterns  or  models 
which  control  imaginative  activities  are  also  given 
in  experience.  For  example,  the  most  common  pat- 
tern of  imaginative  construction,  namely,  that  which 
consists  essentially  in  the  double  process  of  isolating 
one  object  or  quality  and  combining  it  with  another 
has  countless  prototypes  in  the  experience  of  every- 
day life.  All  about  us  from  early  infancy  we  see 
objects  and  their  parts  detached  and  placed  in  new 
relations  or  new  combinations.  So,  when  later  we 
construct  imaginatively  a  Cerberus,  or  a  griffin,  we 
merely  copy  a  method  of  dealing  with  objects  which 
is  already  familiar.  So  also  when  we  set  out  with  a 
fragment  or  portion  of  a  statue  or  inscription  or 
extinct  animal  form  and  proceed  to  reconstruct  it 
imaginatively,  our  method  is  the  same  as  that  of  the 
boy  who  finds  a  detached  part  of  an  old  machine  and 
sets  out  to  find  the  lost  parts  or  to  think  what  the 
original  was  like.  And  in  those  activities  which  con- 
sist in  imaginative  changes  in  the  size  or  intensity 
or  duration  of  objects,  the  pattern  is  very  obviously 
derived  from  experience.  Increase  and  decrease 
of  objects  in  respect  to  these  three  attributes  are 
constantly  going  on  all  about  us ;  and  the  observation 
of  these  changes  doubtless  furnishes  the  pattern  for 
this  class  of  imaginative  constructions. 


IMAGINATION  233 

Passive  and  Active  Imagination.  —  It  is  customary 
to  distinguish  'passive'  from  'active'  imagination. 
In  the  former,  the  images  appear  spontaneously,  run 
their  course  freely,  without  conscious  control,  and 
imaginal  changes  and  combinations  arise  capri- 
ciously as  in  day-dreaming,  in  building  air-castles, 
in  the  fancies  of  childhood  or  when  one  dreamily 
follows  the  description  of  a  bit  of  natural  scenery, 
or  the  incidents  of  a  story.  The  distinguishing  mark 
of  the  'active',  or  creative  imagination  is  that  it  is 
controlled  and  guided  by  a  definite  purpose.  When 
a  sculptor  sets  to  work  to  frame  an  ideal  image  of 
Mars,  or  the  astronomer  to  foretell  the  times  and 
places  at  which  an  approaching  comet  will  be  vis- 
ible, or  the  inventor  to  design  a  vehicle  propelled  by 
steam,  he  exercises  what  is  commonly  called  'active' 
imagination.  And  the  imaginative  construction  of 
the  artist  or  scientist  or  inventor  consists  in  the 
selection  and  modification  of  those  recurring  images 
that  accord  with  his  general  purpose  and  the  rejec- 
tion of  those  that  do  not. 

It  is  thus  clear  that  active  imagination  bears  a 
close  resemblance  to  the  process  of  active  recall  as 
described  in  the  preceding  chapter  (p.  214  f).  Both 
processes  are  guided  by  a  definite  purpose;  in  both 
the  persistence  of  the  purpose  determines,  for  the 
time  being,  and  in  some  degree,  the  character  of  the 
recurring  images,  and  in  both  cases  we  have  the 
selection  from  the  train  of  revived  images  those  that 
are  congruous  with  our  general  purpose  and  the 
rejection  of  those  that  are  not.  Moreover,  the  suc- 
cess of  a  piece  of  creative  imagination,  like  that  of 
the  effort  to  recall  a  forgotten  name,  depends  upon 


234  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

the  revival,  as  occasion  requires,  of  images  that  are 
appropriate  to  the  case  in  hand.  This  is  popularly 
expressed  by  saying  that  creative  imagination,  as 
regards  a  given  kind  of  objects,  requires  a  mind 
richly  furnished  with  images  relevant  thereto,  and 
that  these  shall  be  easily  revivable. 

The  Beginnings  of  Imagination.  —  In  one's  study 
of  the  early  stages  of  the  development  of  the  imagi- 
native activity  it  is  impossible  to  separate  images 
of  imagination  from  memory-images  or  from  men- 
tal images,  in  the  broad  meaning.  One  cannot  at 
first  draw  sharp  lines  and  say  —  here  we  have  the 
one,  there  another.  Nor  is  it  true,  as  some  writers 
believe,  that  the  child  must  have  a  store  of  mental 
images  before  the  imagination  can  'take  flight',  if 
by  'store  of  mental  images',  is  meant  a  stock  of 
definite,  literal  copies  which  might  be  inventoried  as 
raw  material  which  is  susceptible  of  imaginative 
transformation.  The  truth  is  rather  that  the  various 
kinds  of  images  are  inextricably  interwoven  in  all 
early  imaging.  And  yet  imagination,  in  the  mean- 
ing already  stated,  is  involved  in  certain  kinds  of 
infant  behavior,  namely  (1)  in  expressions  of  de- 
sire; (2)  in  practical  devices  to  bring  about  given 
ends;  (3)  in  imitative  play ;  (4)  in  free,  uncontrolled 
play;  and  our  purpose  in  the  following  paragraphs 
is  to  indicate  the  part  it  plays  therein. 

Expressions  o£  Desire  Involving  Imagination.  —  The 
child's  first  desires  probably  are  for  the  repetition  of 
pleasurable  experiences  which  he  recalls.  But  there 
comes  a  time  —  early  in  the  second  year,  as  a  rule — 
when  he  begins  to  picture  neiv  objects  and  new  rela- 


IMAGINATION  235 

tions  of  objects  which  he  desires.  One  observer 
reports,  for  example,  that  his  subject  in  his  eight- 
eenth month  would  pat  on  the  floor  and  cry  'dee' 
when  he  wanted  a  given  article  placed  on  the  floor 
in  a  certain  place  where  he  could  get  hold  of  it. 
Again,  during  his  thirty-first  month,  the  same  child 
frequently  imaged  huge  Os  which  he  wanted  drawn 
for  him,  expressing  his  desire  for  them  by  stretch- 
ing his  arms  far  apart  and  above  his  head.  Now 
these  simple  expressions  involve  something  besides 
revived  images.  In  the  first  instance,  the  child  im- 
agined the  position  of  the  toys  changed  from  the 
shelf  out  of  his  reach  to  a  particular  place  on  the 
floor  (or  on  a  chair)  where  he  could  reach  them;  in 
the  second,  he  imagined  more  wonderful  Os  than 
he  had  ever  seen. 

Imagination  in  Practical  Devices. —Imagination 
appears  very  early  in  the  child's  practical  devices 
to  gain  given  ends.  For  instance,  early  in  his  fif- 
teenth month,  a  certain  child  was  observed  to  push 
a  child's  chair  to  a  table,  then  climb  up  in  the  chair 
in  order  to  reach  spoons,  cups,  and  other  table-ware. 
This  action,  while  probably  imitative  in  some  degree 
was  not  wholly  so.  The  child  doubtless  had  a  lively 
imagination  of  being  engaged  with  the  interesting 
table-ware  when  he  started  to  the  table  with  the 
chair.  A  little  later,  one  may  observe  entirely  orig- 
inal devices  in  which  the  child  shows  initiative,  in 
which  he  acts  out  a  new  image.  For  example,  dur- 
ing a  rain-storm,  a  certain  child,  eighteen  months 
old,  went  about  the  room  closing  the  inside  window 
shutters  to  keep  out  the  storm,  as  he  supposed.    In 


236  ELEMENTS   OF  PSYCHOLOGY 

the  same  child's  twenty-fifth  month,  in  his  efforts  to 
get  a. kitten  to  eat  a  piece  of  toast,  which  was  lying 
on  a  table,  he  employed  the  unusual  device  of  lifting 
the  kitten  to  the  table,  and  then  rubbed  its  nose  over 
the  toast  instead  of  taking  the  bread  and  giving  it 
to  his  pet  as  an  older  child  would  have  done. 

Imitative  Play.  —  How  much  of  the  baby's  imitat- 
ive play  is  an  effort  literally  to  copy  his  models  ?  how 
much  is  free  realization  of  an  idea  which  has  been 
suggested  by  them  ?  One  cannot  say  definitely ;  but 
it  is  safe  to  say  that  few  children  at  play  are  such 
slavish  copiers  as  not  to  transform,  in  some  measure, 
the  things  they  imitate.  For  instance,  in  the  well- 
known  doll-play  of  little  children,  this  transforming 
tendency  is  clearly  present.  Almost  any  manage- 
able thing  —  a  bit  of  rag,  a  stick,  a  few  straws  — 
may  serve  as  a  doll  which  is  fed,  dressed,  punished, 
put  to  bed,  doctored,  without  any  thought  of  the 
reality  or  unreality  of  the  imaged  actions.  In  doll- 
play  the  child  moves  in  a  world  which  is  so  com- 
pletely fanciful  in  character  that  he  fails  to  note 
what  the  older  person  calls  its  incongruities. 

Constructive  Imagination  in  free,  uncontrolled  Play. 

—  Every  observer  of  children  knows  how  in  their 
play  they  represent  all  sorts  of  objects  and  scenes 
by  means  of  simple  articles  like  blocks,  pebbles, 
buttons,  sticks;  and  also  how  readily  the  child- 
mind  transforms  such  articles  into  things  of  life 
and   action  —  horses,   cattle,    soldiers,   locomotives 

—  and  how  they  are  marshaled  to  represent  scenes 
which  have  greatly  impressed  the  child,  and  which 
he  wishes  to  repeat.    For  instance,  the  child  goes  to 


IMAGINATION  237 

church  and  upon  his  return  home,  plays  'church', 
using  chairs,  tables,  blocks  —  whatever  comes  to 
hand  to  represent  those  features  of  the  church  serv- 
ice which  impressed  themselves  upon  him.  In  like 
manner,  school,  keeping  store,  a  circus  parade,  are 
reproduced  in  their  most  striking  features  by  means 
of  such  articles  as  the  child  can  command.  As  one 
author  remarks,  the  blocks  or  chairs  or  shells  form 
the  one  bit  of  necessary  substantiality  from  which 
the  child  fancy  takes  its  flight,  and  around  which  it 
builds  its  imaginary  scenes. 

A  notable  difference  between  the  baby's  imaginal  con- 
sciousness and  the  adult's  may  be  noted  in  passing,  namely, 
the  absence  in  the  former  of  what  are  called  'trains  of  im- 
agery'. In  the  developed  mind,  most  of  the  images  that 
arise  in  consciousness  are  aroused  or  suggested,  by  imme- 
diately preceding  images.  An  image  appears  in  conscious- 
ness, the  first  calls  up  a  second,  the  second  a  third,  the  sec- 
ond and  third  may  revive  new  ones,  and  we  have  what  we 
call  a  train  of  imagery,  often  uninterrupted  by  outside  stim- 
uli. But  trains  of  imagery  are  unknown,  probably,  to  the 
child  under  two.  He  hears  the  word  'ball',  or  'clock',  or 
'hat',  the  image  of  the  object  comes  to  his  mind  and  there 
the  process  ends,  unless  the  child  happens  to  want  the  object 
named;  while  in  the  mature  mind  any  one  of  these  words 
may  very  easily  start  a  train  of  images. 

Individual  Differences  in  Imagination. —  In  our 
chapter  on  Mental  Images  we  saw  that  individuals 
may  be  classified  roughly  according  to  the  differ- 
ences in  the  sensory  basis,  or  source,  of  their  favor- 
ite or  predominant  forms  of  imagery.  We  may  also 
classify  individuals  in  respect  to  the  variations  in 
their  ability  to  manipulate  imaginatively  different 


238  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

kinds  of  objects.  Thus  one  person  possesses  un- 
usual ability  for  imaging  mechanical  devices  of 
various  sorts ;  a  second,  most  easily  images  the  con- 
duct and  emotional  reactions  of  human  beings; 
Mobile  a  third  shows  greatest  facility  in  imaging  proc- 
esses and  relations  in  nature.  For  example,  an 
Edison  or  a  Fulton  possesses  highly  developed 
powers  of  imaging  in  the  field  of  mechanical  inven- 
tion ;  a  Shakespeare  or  a  Gladstone,  in  that  of  hu- 
man nature  and  politics ;  a  Darwin  or  a  Tyndall,  in 
respect  to  the  phenomena  of  the  physical  world; 
and  it  seems  not  unreasonable  to  suppose  that  sim- 
ilar differences  exist  among  people  generally,  but 
in  the  latter  case  they  are  not  so  conspicuous  as  they 
often  are  when  one  is  comparing  the  achievements 
of  great  men. 

The  causes  of  individual  differences  of  this  kind 
cannot  at  present  be  stated  with  even  a  semblance 
of  scientific  precision  or  completeness.  It  is  pop- 
ularly believed  that  they,  like  others,  are  due  in  part 
to  differences  in  native  endowment,  or  original 
nature,  in  part  to  the  varying  educational  influences 
of  childhood,  and  partly  to  the  special  requirements 
of  chosen  occupations.  And  so  far,  the  popular  view 
is  doubtless  correct.  For  example,  the  difference 
between  the  imaginative  achievements  of  the  poet 
and  the  soldier,  or  between  those  of  the  musician 
and  those  of  the  man  of  science,  is  doubtless  due 
partly  to  differences  in  their  inherited  mental  con- 
stitutions. It  is  hardly  conceivable  that  environ- 
mental influences  alone  could  have  produced  the 
differences  between  the  imaginative  powers  of  Ten- 


IMAGINATION  239 

nyson  and  Wellington,  or  Bismarck  and  Schiller; 
and  it  is  past  thinking  that  Newton  or  Kant  in- 
herited gifts  of  imaginative  creation  comparable  to 
those  of  Shelley  or  Beethoven,  comparable,  that  is, 
as  regards  the  character  of  the  objects  in  respect 
to  which  their  imaginative  processes  moved  most 
freely.^ 

Common  opinion  is  right  also  in  attributing  indi- 
vidual differences  in  imagination  in  part  to  differ- 
ences in  home  and  school  education.  To  take  an  ex- 
treme case  —  a  child  whose  school  days  are  spent  in 
studying  the  behavior  of  plants  and  animals,  in  por- 
ing over  stories  of  travel  and  adventure,  in  rehears- 
ing historical  narratives,  in  following  the  visions  of 
the  poets,  will,  other  things  equal,  develop  imagina- 
tive powers  which  far  surpass  those  of  a  child  whose 
days  are  spent  in  memorizing  meaningless  symbols. 
This  is  only  to  say  that  the  imaging  function  grows 
by  exercise,  and  that  when  .the  exercise  is  lacking, 
the  function  atrophies.  Special  training  or  exercise 
also  produces  characteristic  differences  in  imagina- 
tion. Thus,  a  child's  ability  to  imagine  new  combi- 
nations of  musical  tones,  to  design  new  forms  for 
moulding  clay,  to  picture  strange  peoples,  their  cus- 
toms and  institutions,  depends  upon  imaginative 
training  in  these  subjects.  The  child's  imagination 
takes  character  from  the  materials  in  which  it  is 
exercised. 


'  It  would  be  interesting  to  inquire  concerninfr  tlie  relationship 
Viotween  'imasinal  type'  and  the  ability  'to  manipulate  imagina- 
tively' different  classes  of  objects. 


240  ELEMENTS   OF  PSYCHOLOGY 

It  is  merely  a  further  application  of  the  principle 
just  stated  to  say  that  individual  differences  in  im- 
agination depend  partly  upon  differences  in  the 
imaginative  requirements  of  different  occupations. 
The  oculist's  imagination  differs  from  the  archi- 
tect's, the  naval  officer's  from  the  pianist's,  the  phy- 
sicist's from  the  actor's,  simply  because  the  stocks 
of  images  with  which  each  habitually  works  differ, 
and  because  these  different  occupations  require  dif- 
ferent imaginative  habits. 

REFERENCES 

Angell:  Psychology,  Ch.  VIIL 

James:   Principles  of  Psychology,  Vol.  II,  Chs.  XVI,  XVIII. 

Judd:   Psychology,  Ch.  XI. 

Stout:  The  Groundwork  of  Psychology,  Ch.  XII. 

Sully:   The  Human  Mind,  Vol.  I,  Ch.  X. 

Titchener:  A  Text-Book  of  Psychology.  §§  112-119. 


CHAPTER  XI 

THOUGHT  AND  THE  THOUGHT  PROCESSES 

The  General  Nature  of  Thinking,  —  We  cannot  be- 
gin our  study  of  thought  and  the  thought  processes 
better  than  with  the  following  quotation  from 
James : — 

"As  our  hands  may  hold  a  bit  of  wood  and  a  knife,  and 
yet  do  naught  with  either;  so  our  mind  may  simply  be  aware 
of  a  thing's  existence,  and  yet  neither  attend  to  it  nor  dis- 
criminate it,  neither  locate  nor  count  nor  compare  .... 
nor  recognize  it  articulately  as  having  been  met  before.  At 
the  same  time  we  know  that,  instead  of  staring  at  it  in  this 
entranced  and  senseless  way,  we  may  rally  our  activity  in 
a  moment,  and  locate,  class,  compare,  count,  and  judge  it. 

The  result  of  the  thought's  operating  on  the 

data  given  to  sense  is  to  transform  the  order  in  which  expe- 
rience comes  into  an  entirely  different  order,  that  of  the  co7i- 
ceived  world.^ 

Our  account  of  the  general  nature  of  thinking  will 
be  little  more  than  an  emphasis  of  the  several  fea- 
tures of  this  quotation. 

In  the  first  place,  we  are  to  conceive  of  the  thought 
processes  as  belonging  in  a  special  sense  to  the 
mind's  own  operations.  If  we  say  that  our  sense- 
experiences,  together  with  the  memories  and  imagi- 
nations that  are  built  up  out  of  them,  are,  in  a  way, 
forced  upon  us  or  arise  in  response  to  our  environ- 
mental influences,  then  by  way  of  contrast  we  may 


'  Principles  of  Psijchoh>gy,  \o\.  ^,  p.   481   f. 
16  (241) 


242  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

say  that  the  thought  processes — our  judgments,  our 
comparisons,  our  analyses,  and  our  classifications  — ■ 
belong  in  a  special  manner  to  the  mind's  own  activ- 
ities; thoughts  seem  to  be  'mind  born',  to  be  expe- 
riences which  do  not  originate  in  the  direct  in- 
fluences of  our  environment.  To  illustrate :  the  sen- 
sations, red,  blue,  sour,  warmth,  fragrant,  and  so 
on,  are  caused  by  external  objects  acting  upon  the 
sense-organs ;  but  the  thought  that  these  sensations 
differ  is  a  distinctively  mental  addition  to  the  bare 
sensory  experiences.  Again,  a  child's  perceptions 
of  a  fish,  a  sparrow,  and  a  gorilla,  as  individual  ob- 
jects, since  they  are  dependent  upon  the  stimulation 
of  the  sense-organs,  belong,  in  the  broad  classifica- 
tion just  indicated,  to  the  sensory  field;  but  to  know 
these  objects  as  vertebrates  involves  a  distinctively 
mental  addition  to  the  bare  perceptions — the  thought, 
namely,  that  despite  their  conspicuous  dissimilari- 
ties they  are  alike  in  having  a  backbone  of  bony  ver- 
tebrse.  The  thought  of  this  similarity  amidst  enor- 
mous differences  was  clearly,  in  the  first  instance  at 
any  rate,  a  'mind  born'  process,  not  something  im- 
pressed from  without. 

In  the  second  place,  we  are  to  conceive  of  thought 
as  a  mental  playing  with,  an  active  manipulation  of 
the  materials  given  in  sensation,  feeling,  perception, 
and  memory.  Its  chief  function  is  not  to  yield  new 
sensations,  new  feelings,  new  memories,  but  rather 
to  work  over  the  materials  already  in  stock,  to  dis- 
cover their  relations,  to  classify,  and  to  render  judg- 
ments concerning  them.  Stated  otherwise,  thought's 
chief  function  is  to  transform  "the  order  of  nature, 


THOUGHT  AND   THE   THOUGHT   PROCESSES      243 

which',  as  Mill  writes,  'as  perceived  at  a  first  glance, 
presents  at  every  instant  a  chaos  followed  by  an- 
other chaos,"  into  an  orderly  world  of  relations,  to 
ascertain  differences  and  likenesses  where  they  are 
at  first  hidden,  to  search  out  elements  and  essential 
features,  to  number  and  group  and  classify  the  ma- 
terials given  in  sensation  and  memory.  To  take  a 
simple  illustration :  contrast  the  world  which  the 
child  of  six  knows  and  lives  in  with  that  of  an  edu- 
cated adult.  The  former  knows  nothing  of  the  dis- 
tinctions of  vegetable,  animal,  and  mineral  king- 
doms, of  physical  and  psychical,  of  chemical  and 
physical  changes,  of  metals  and  non-metals,  of  stars 
and  planets,  of  consonants  and  vowels,  of  indicative 
and  subjunctive;  these  and  the  numberless  distinc- 
tions which  are  made  in  the  process  of  education  are 
highly  artificial,  are  not  given  in  the  'order  of  na- 
ture', and  are,  in  the  main,  the  results  of  the  thought 
processes;  and  they  are,  of  course,  the  rarest  prod- 
ucts, and,  for  our  intellectual  life,  the  most  impor- 
tant creations  of  our  mental  activities.  In  a  word, 
to  think  is  to  manipulate,  to  operate  on,  the  data 
already  in  store.  Thinking  in  its  completest  forms 
yields  a  new  fund  of  experiences  which  we  know  by 
the  names  of  comparisons,  analyses,  classifications, 
abstractions,  judgments,  and  inferences;  and  these 
comparisons,  analyses,  classifications,  etc.,  together 
make  up  the  transformations  which  thought  works 
in  the  materials  that  originate  in  sensations  and 
feelings. 

Thought  Processes  as  Functions.  —  A  thought  process, 
like  every  other  cognitive  process,  may  be  studied  from  cither 


244  ELEMENTS   OF  PSYCHOLOGY 

the  structural  or  the  functional  point  of  view;  that  is,  we 
may  study  the  process  as  it  is  in  itself,  as  an  item  in  the 
stream  of  consciousness,  or  we  may  fix  attention  upon  its 
function,  upon  its  meaning,  the  object  or  objects  which  it 
designates.  The  difference  between  these  two  ways  of  re- 
garding a  psychical  process  may  be  emphasized  by  recalling 
a  difference  in  point  of  view  which  was  indicated  in  our 
earlier  chapters.  It  was  there  seen  that  from  one  point  of 
view  we  may  regard  sensations,  e.  g.,  of  redness,  sweetness, 
warmth,  and  the  like,  as  conscious  processes,  as  mental  ex- 
istences; and  that  from  another  point  of  view,  we  may  re- 
gard them  as  consciousnesses  of  the  qualities  of  objects,  as 
the  raw  material  of  our  world  of  knowledge.  It  was  said 
also  that  the  psychologist  may  limit  his  task  to  the  analysis 
and  description  of  these  sensory  experiences  as  items  in  the 
conscious  stream  and  to  the  discovery  and  formulation  of  the 
laws  of  their  combination  with  other  conscious  processes;  he 
may  think  only  of  the  sensory  processes  as  they  are  in  them- 
selves and  of  their  interrelations.  He  may,  however,  from 
another  point  of  view,  be  interested  primarily  in  the  fact 
that  sensations  constitute  the  raw  material  out  of  which  our 
knowledge  of  the  external  world  is  constructed  and  in  the 
functions  which  the  several  kinds  of  sensations  thus  serve. 
In  short,  the  distinction  there  drawn  was  between  sensations 
as  items  of  the  stream  of  consciousness  and  sensations  as 
acquaintance  with  the  qualities  of  objects.  Similarly,  we 
may  consider  the  structure  of  the  thought  processes,  what 
they  are  like  as  phenomena  of  consciousness,  or  we  may  con- 
sider their  meanings,  their  objective  references.  In  the  pres- 
ent study  we  shall  be  concerned  chiefly  with  the  thought 
processes  as  functions,  and  only  incidentally  with  their  struc- 
ture. 

The  Thought  Processes.  —  From  our  present  point 
of  view  we  may  distinguish  broadly  two  classes  of 
thought  processes,  or  functions.  To  the  first  class, 
belong  those  mental  activities  which  consist  essen- 
tially in  designating,  pointing  out,  objects;  to  the 


THOUGHT   AND   THE   THOUGHT   PROCESSES      245 

second  class,  belong  those  processes  which  consist 
essentially  in  designating  relations  between  objects. 
Stated  otherwise,  we  may  think  of,  mentally  point 
toward,  mean,  either  material  things,  or  our  own 
or  others'  consciousnesses;  these  mental  designa- 
tions, or  meanings,  we  may  call  'thoughts  of.  We 
may  also  think  of  a  thing's  relations  to  other  things : 
these  thoughts  we  may  call  'thoughts  about'.  In 
short,  all  thoughts  are  either  thoughts  of  or  thoughts 
about.  The  thought  of,  the  bare  designation  of  an 
object,  we  shall  call  Ideation,  or  Conception;  the 
thought  about  a  thing,  which  as  we  have  seen,  is 
the  same  as  the  thought  of  its  relation  or  relations 
to  other  things,  we  may  call  Judgment. 

In  the  remaining  pages  of  the  present  chapter  we 
shall  first  study  Ideation  in  the  broad  meaning  just 
indicated,  and  also  Abstraction,  a  special  form  of 
the  ideating  process.  Next  we  shall  explain  a  little 
farther  the  nature  of  Judgment,  after  which  Rea- 
soning, the  process  in  which  thought  reaches  its 
clearest  and  fullest  expression,  shall  have  a  few 
pages.  In  the  next  chapter  we  shall  consider  certain 
of  the  more  complicated  thought  processes. 

Thought  as  Ideation.  —  In  our  present  meaning  of 
the  term,  to  think  of  anything  is  to  refer  to  it,  to 
designate  it,  to  mean  it.  Thus  we  say  we  are  think- 
ing of  the  ships  at  sea,  or  of  the  effects  of  a  heavy 
frost  on  the  budding  fruit,  or  of  the  relative  value 
of  two  college  studies.  We  do  not  mean  to  say  what 
we  are  thinking  about  the  ships  or  the  frost  effects 
or  the  values  of  the  college  studies;  we  mean  merely 
to  convey  the  information  that  these  things  are,  at 


246  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

the  present  moment,  subjects  under  consideration. 
So,  in  this  sense  of  the  t^^  m,  to  think  of  a  thing  is 
to  designate  it,  to  select  iv  .  rom  among  all  other  pos- 
sible subjects  as  a  topic  of  discourse  or  reflection. 
A  thought  of  is  a  reference  to,  the  identification  or 
designation  of,  a  thing  or  group  of  things. 

The  terms  idea  and  ideate  are  frequently  used  as 
the  equivalents  of  thought  and  think,  in  the  present 
meaning  of  the  two  latter  terms.  But  the  student 
should  observe  that,  in  the  present  connection,  to 
think  of,  or  ideate,  a  thing  does  not  mean  to  form 
a  mental  image  of  it.  The  mental  process  is  merely 
one  of  referring  to,  of  designating,  an  object. 
Thought  and  ideate,  as  here  used,  are  equivalent  to 
James'  term  'conception'  in  the  sentence,  "The 
function  by  which  we  ...  .  identify  a  numer- 
ically distinct  and  permanent  subject  of  discourse  is 
called  conception." 

The  expression  'thought  of  this  and  that  seems  to  imply- 
that  the  thought  is  always  one  thing  and  the  thing  thought 
of  is  always  another.  As  a  rule,  it  is  true,  the  thought 
and  the  object  of  thought  are,  for  the  common  sense  point 
of  view,  two  different  things;  e.  g.,  the  thought  of  the  Par- 
thenon, the  act  of  mentally  designating  the  Grecian  temple 
is  one  thing,  the  temple  itself,  another.  Not  infrequently, 
however,  the  'thought  of  the  object'  and  the  'object  of 
thought'  are  one  and  the  same  thing.  Thus  in  the  sentence, 
'I  am  thinking  of  the  difference  in  meaning  between  the  two 
words  'famous'  and  'notorious',  my  thought  is  the  difference, 
as  I  understand  it;  the  'thought'  and  'the  object  of  thought' 
are  one  and  the  same.  But,  to  repeat,  to  think  of  a  thing, 
in  its  primary  sense,  means  merely  to  refer  to  it,  to  point 
it  out,  to  identify  it. 


THOUGHT   AND   THE   THOUGHT   PROCESSES      247 

Thought  as  Abstraction.  —  The  term  'abstraction' 
has  three  well-defined  fj^eanings  in  psychology. 
Sometimes  it  means  ai;.6.ition  to  some  feature, 
quality,  or  element  of  a  complex  object,  as  when  one 
examines  the  form  of  a  leaf  and  neglects  for  the 
time  being  its  color,  size,  venation,  and  functions ; 
or  when  one  centers  attention  on  Hamlet's  rash  and 
impetuous  behavior  at  Ophelia's  grave  and  forgets 
his  usual  irresoluteness. 

At  other  times,  and  more  frequently,  perhaps,  ab- 
straction means  the  thought  of  a  feature  or  quality 
which  is  common  to  a  group  or  class  of  objects.  The 
thoughts  of  the  brilliancy  of  diamonds  or  of  the 
humor  or  pathos  of  Dickens'  novels  or  of  the  cour- 
age of  Roman  soldiers  may  serve  as  illustrations  of 
the  second  meaning  of  abstraction. 

At  still  other  times,  abstraction  means  the  thought 
of  general  or  universal  qualities,  attributes,  condi- 
tions. Examples  are,  thoughts  of  brightness,  sour- 
ness, courage,  motion,  in  general,  i.  e.,  without  ref- 
erence to  any  one  of  the  multitude  of  individual 
things  that  may  be  described  as  bright,  sour,  mov- 
ing, courageous.  Usually  the  context  will  enable  the 
student  to  tell  in  which  of  the  three  senses  the  term 
is  used,  whether  it  means  the  thought  of  a  particular 
part  of  a  complex,  or  the  thought  of  a  property  com- 
mon to  a  group  of  objects,  or  of  an  abstract  uni- 
versal. 

How  Abstract  Meanings  Arise.  —  Abstraction,  in 
in  the  first  of  the  senses  just  mentioned,  as  a  simple 
process  of  isolating  some  feature  of  a  complex,  e.  g., 
the  tones  of  the  clarionet  in  an  orchestral  perform- 


248  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

ance,  is  essentially  the  same  as  the  attentive  process, 
so-called.  To  abstract  a  feature  or  aspect  of  a  given 
object,  event,  or  situation  is,  in  this  sense,  to  attend 
to  it ;  and  the  conditions  of  abstraction  and  attention 
are  the  same.  Now  the  conditions,  or  determinants, 
of  attention  are,  as  we  have  seen  in  an  earlier  sec- 
tion, that  the  object  shall  possess  either  a  certain 
intensity  or  a  certain  quality  or  suddenness  or  nov- 
elty, or  shall  be  repeated  a  number  of  times,  or  shall 
be  congruous  with  one's  present  interests  whether 
instinctive  or  acquired.  Thus  loud  sounds,  bright 
colors,  bitter  tastes,  novel  or  suddenly  appearing  im- 
pressions of  all  kinds  attract  or  even  compel  atten- 
tion. Likewise,  oft  repeated  stimuli  force  them- 
selves to  the  focus  of  consciousness.  And  everyday 
experience  furnishes  multitudes  of  illustrations  of 
the  tendency  of  impressions  that  are  congruous  with 
one's  present  consciousness  to  attain  prominence  in 
the  conscious  field.  Shells  or  beach  pebbles  that  en- 
tirely escape  the  notice  of  most  pleasure  seekers, 
stand  out  like  brilliants  to  the  boy  who  is  hunting 
that  particular  kind  and  whose  mind  is  full  of  their 
images. 

It  is  not  difficult  to  account  for  abstractions  of  the 
second  class,  i.  e.,  to  understand  how  we  come  to 
think  of  a  given  attribute  as  common  to  a  group  of 
objects,  e.  g.,  of  brightness  as  a  property  of  the 
stars  or  of  ferocity  as  a  characteristic  of  lions.  All 
that  is  required  is  a  multitude  of  experiences  with 
members  of  the  group,  that  these  experiences  shall 
possess  a  high  degree  of  uniformity,  and  that  the 
conditions  of  the  experiences  shall  be  such  that  the 


THOUGHT   AND   THE   THOUGHT   PROCESSES      249 

particular  feature  shall  frequently  attain  vividness 
in  our  consciousness.  For  example,  our  idea  of  fero- 
city as  a  characteristic  of  lions  has  grown  up  very 
easily  out  of  a  practically  uniform  racial  experience 
w^ith  these  animals.  As  we  say  in  everyday  speech, 
experience  has  taught  that  lions,  as  a  class,  are  fero- 
cious. In  the  same  way,  our  knowledge  of  the  var- 
ious common  properties  of  the  multitudes  of  groups 
of  objects  in  our  environment  has  come  into  being. 

The  third  kind  of  abstractions  described  above, 
the  thoughts,  e.  g.,  of  brightness,  of  color,  of  tri- 
angle, of  stature,  of  ferocity,  of  motion,  of  direction, 
which  are  not  of  any  particular  brightness,  color, 
triangle,  stature,  ferocity,  motion  or  direction,  while 
not  mysterious  affairs,  belong  to  a  higher  stage  of 
mental  development  and  are  evidently  rarer  proc- 
esses than  abstraction  in  the  two  senses  just  men- 
tioned. 

If  the  question  concerning  the  original  formation 
of  abstractions  of  this  last  mentioned  class  relates 
to  individual  development,  i.  e.,  how  does  a  child 
that  is  born  into  a  community  where  abstractions  of 
this  kind  are  the  common  property  of  all  its  mem- 
bers ever  come  to  think  of  motion,  color,  stature, 
direction,  etc.,  which  are  no  particular  motions,  col- 
ors, statures,  or  directions,  the  answer  would  be  that 
these  thoughts  are  absorbed  along  with  the  words 
which  name  them.  They  are  parts  of  such  a  child's 
intellectual  inheritance,  and  he  gets  possession  of 
them  as  rapidly  as  he  can  acquire  the  intelligent  use 
of  the  words  which  serve  as  their  vehicles.  At  first, 
to  be  sure,  the  pupil  over  his  geometry  or  his  physics 


250  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

lesson  thinks  of  particular  triangles  and  of  par- 
ticular instances  of  motion,  just  as  at  first  the  word 
'cat'  or  'horse'  means,  to  the  child,  some  particular 
cat  or  horse.  But  in  time,  the  pupil  acquires  the 
ability  to  think  of  triangle  and  motion  without 
thinking  of  particular  triangles  or  motions. 

If,  however,  our  question  is,  how  did  the  human 
race,  or  certain  portions  of  it,  come  into  possession 
of  such  a  wealth  of  'abstract  general  ideas,'  like 
those  expressed  by  the  words  color,  triangle,  animal, 
plant,  mineral,  sound,  motion,  velocity — if  it  is  asked 
what  were  the  experiences  out  of  which  these 
thoughts  rolled,  so  to  say,  and  who  were  the  geniuses 
in  whose  minds  they  first  arose,  and  who  fixed  them 
and  made  them  permanent  additions  to  the  intellect- 
ual wealth  of  the  race  by  naming  them?  then  we 
must  say  that  the  answers  are  largely  hidden  away 
in  the  long  ages  of  forgotten  racial  experience.  We 
say  'are  largely',  not  wholly,  hidden,  since  modern 
research  furnishes  a  plausible  account  of  the  origin 
of  many  of  our  abstract  meanings. 

The  method  most  widely  employed  in  the  attempt 
to  get  light  on  the  history  of  these  meanings,  and  in- 
deed, in  the  historical  study  of  all  meanings,  may 
be  called  the  'linguistic'.  That  is,  an  effort  is  made 
to  trace  the  history  of  meanings  by  tracing  the 
history  of  the  verbal  forms  which  serve  as  their 
vehicles.  Titchener  gives  a  particularly  good  illus- 
tration, which  is  here  quoted  in  part,  of  the  use  of 
this  method: 

"If  the  logician  were  speaking  of  the  relation  which  the 
concept  'whiteness'  bears  to  the  substance  'snow',  he  would 


THOUGHT   AND   THE   THOUGHT   PROCESSES      251 

call  it  an  attribiiU'  of  that  substance.  An  attribute  is  a 
characteristic  or  property  or  mark  of  a  substance.  How  has 
the  concept  [the  abstract  idea,  'attribute']  been  formed? 

"We  find  in  Latin  the  word  trihus  which  means  'tribe',  a 
community,  a  society  of  men.  In  Latin  we  also  find  the  verb 
tribno  'to  assign'  or  'give';  and  the  past  participle  of  this  is 
kept  in  the  English  tribute.  'Tribute'  means  'what  is  done 
by  the  tribe';  and  'what  is  done  by  the  tribe'  is  to  pay  for 
protection,  to  give  or  bestow  something  upon  a  chieftain  or 
a  more  powerful  tribe  in  return  for  favours  received.  The 
special  meaning  retained  in  'tribute'  has  become  a  general 
meaning  ('to  give,'  simply)  in  the  verb  tribuo.  —  Finally, 
from  tribno  comes  'attribute',  that  which  is  assigned  or 
granted  to  something.  It  is  a  long  road  that  leads  from  the 
village  community  through  the  assessment  of  the  community 
to  the  logical  characteristic  but  it  is  without  doubt  the 
road  that  this  concept  travelled.'" 

Thought  as  Judgment.  —  We  have  defined  Judg- 
ment as  the  thought  of  a  relation  between  or  among 
objects.  In  this  case,  the  thought  of  relationship  is 
the  essential,  the  characteristic  mark  of  the  judging 
process.  Now  this  definition  may  seem  open  to  the 
criticism  that  it  makes  of  judgment  the  affirmation 
of  a  relation  in  which  nothing  is  related,  the  desig- 
nation of  the  keystone  of  an  arch  which  has  not  been 
constructed,  which,  of  course,  is  an  absurdity.  The 
answer  to  this  possible  objection  is  that,  in  our  view, 
the  judgment  of  relation  implies  the  related  things, 
the  parts  of  the  arch  which  are  held  in  place  by  the 
keystone,  and  that,  to  continue  the  figure,  judgment 
is  a  process  of  designating,  pointing  to  the  keystone, 
and  to  the  function  it  performs.  Or,  put  in  another 
way,  a  judgment  is  a  thought-of-a-relation-between- 


'  Primer  of  Psychology,  1907,   p.   224. 


252  ELEMENTS   OF  PSYCHOLOGY 

objects.  It  may  be  remarked,  further,  that  the  fore- 
going definition  is  obviously  a  departure  from  cer- 
tain current  teaching  which  makes  the  conscious- 
ness of  wholeness  (which,  in  our  view,  is  only  one 
form  or  instance  of  judgment)  the  distinguishing 
mark  of  the  judging  process. 

Not  infrequently,  in  the  author's  experience,  students  are 
puzzled  by  the  expression,  'the  thought  of  a  thing's  relations 
to  other  things'.  This  difficulty,  when  it  becomes  articulate, 
assumes  the  form,  'what  is  it  to  think  of  relations  between 
objects?  give  us  some  examples.'  It  seems  desirable,  there- 
fore, to  try  to  clear  away  this  obstacle  at  the  outset. 

Two  simple  illustrations  will  suffice.  Suppose  one  is  think- 
ing of  a  boulder's  'relations'  to  other  things.  To  assert  that 
the  boulder  lies  to  the  right  or  left,  east  or  west,  above  or 
below,  inside  or  outside,  of  some  other  specified  thing,  that 
it  is  east  of  a  given  oak  tree  and  inside  an  iron  fence,  is 
to  utter  judgments  regarding  its  spatial  relations.  Tempor- 
ally regarded,  one  may  continue,  the  boulder  in  its  pres- 
ent form  antedates  certain  geologic  events  and  is  subsequent 
to  certain  others.  Again,  one  is  thinking  of  causal  relations 
when  one  affirms  that  the  boulder's  present  form  and  posi- 
tion are  due  to  glacial  action.  One  may  designate  its  further 
relations  by  noting  that  it  is  composed  of  certain  substances 
and  belongs  to  such  and  such  a  class  of  rocks.  These  may 
serve  as  examples  of  statements  regarding  the  physical  rela- 
tions in  which  objects  stand  to  one  another.  We  also  speak 
of  'human  relations',  the  relations  in  which  human  beings 
stand  to  one  another,  e.  g.,  parent  and  child,  principal  and 
agent,  author  and  reader,  judge  and  jury,  general  and  army, 
class  and  pupil,  society  and  individual,  and  so  on. 

Judgment  as  Synthesis.  —  In  a  certain  sense,  every 
judgment  is  a  mental  synthesis,  a  process  of  men- 
tally uniting,  or  combining,  two  or  more  of  our  ideas 
or  meanings.    This  is  true  even  of  the  analytic  judg- 


THOUGHT  AND   THE   THOUGHT   PROCESSES      253 

ments  which  consist  in  breaking  up  a  complex 
whole  into  a  number  of  distinguishable  parts.  Thus 
in  the  judgments  whereby  we  designate  the  sensory- 
qualities  of  a  lemon  as  yellowish  in  color,  oblong  in 
shape,  sourish  in  taste,  or  as  soft  or  hard,  rough  or 
smooth,  fragrant  or  odorless,  we  have  a  mental 
union  of  the  idea  lemon  and  its  several  properties. 
It  is  true  even  of  the  so-called  negative  judgments 
which  deny  the  objective  connection  of  objects  no 
less  than  of  the  affirmative  ones ;  both  involve  the 
mental  togetherness  of  their  terms.  For  example, 
in  order  to  judge,  'iron  is  not  a  precious  metal'  the 
ideas  'iron'  and  'precious  metal'  must  both  be  to- 
gether in  consciousness,  in  the  same  way  that  the 
terms  'iron'  and  'useful  metal'  are  together  in  the 
judgment  —  'iron  is  a  useful  metal'.  The  only  dif- 
ference is  that  a  relationship  is  affirmed  in  the  one 
case  and  denied  in  the  other.  Our  present  concern, 
however,  is  not  with  judgment  in  this  meaning,  but 
rather  with  the  fact  that  multitudes  of  judgments 
are  thoughts  of  the  union  or  the  connection  of  given 
objects,  with  the  fact  that  their  purpose  or  function 
is  to  designate  the  real  or  objective  union  of  the 
things  in  reference  to  which  they  are  rendered. 

The  practically  most  important  classes  of  judg- 
ments in  this  meaning  are  (1)  judgments  of  cause 
and  effect,  (2)  of  substance  and  attribute,  (3)  of 
spatial  and  temporal  relations.  We  shall  give  a  few 
examples  of  each  class. 

Judgments  of  Objective  Relations. — Judgments  that 
given  things  are  the  causes  of  other  given  things 


254  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

occupy  a  large  place  in  our  thinking  from  early 
childhood. 

While  we  are  not  concerned  here  to  trace  the 
development  of  the  scientific  idea  of  causation,  it 
may  be  in  place  to  remark  that  the  psychological 
beginnings  of  causal  judgments  are  found  probably 
in  the  child's  observations  of  the  results  of  his  own 
activities.  Thus,  in  manipulating  toys,  the  child 
soon  observes  a  relationship  between  certain  of  his 
own  actions  and  particular  changes  in  the  toys  — 
say  changes  of  position  or  in  sounds  produced. 
Gradually  thereafter,  the  notion  emerges  that  every 
change  in  both  the  material  and  mental  M^orlds  has 
a  cause;  and  in  time,  thoughts  of,  and  inquiries  con- 
cerning, the  cause  and  effect  relationship  come  to 
hold  a  large  place  in  one's  thinking. 

A  second  large  class  of  judgments  of  objective 
connection  pertain  to  the  substance-attribute  rela- 
tionship. The  common  words  bright,  dim,  warm, 
cold,  sweet,  bitter,  hard,  soft,  rough,  smooth,  and 
the  like  form  the  predicates  of  this  class  of  judg- 
ments. Needless  to  say,  they  make  their  appearance 
early  and,  taken  together,  they  constitute  probably 
the  largest  single  group  of  terms  employed  in  the 
average  person's  thinking. 

Judgments  that  designate  the  temporal  and  spa- 
tial relations  of  objects  are  expressed  by  such  ad- 
verbs as,  —  before,  antecedent,  after,  subsequent, 
earlier,  later,  coincidently,  concurrently,  and  the  like 
.  .  .  .  The  words  above,  below,  inside,  outside, 
to  the  right,  to  the  left,  upon,  underneath,  opposite, 
same   (of  direction),  will  serve  as  illustrations  of 


THOUGHT   AND   THE   THOUGHT   PROCESSES      255 

the  terms  employed  in  judgments  of  spatial  relation. 

It  may  help  us  to  realize  how  large  a  place  judgments  of 
cause  and  effect,  of  substance  and  attribute,  and  of  temporal 
and  spatial  relations  occupy  in  our  thinking  to  recall  that 
many  of  our  text-books  are  made  up  chiefly  of  these  classes 
of  judgments.  For  example,  a  text  in  political  history  con- 
sists of  statements  of  when  and  where  given  historical  events 
occurred,  and,  in  some  cases,  consideration  of  their  under- 
lying causes.  Books  on  biology  describe  the  properties,  hab- 
itats, and  the  grounds  of  the  behavior  of  living  things.  A 
treatise  on  psychology  consists  mainly,  of  judgments  in  re- 
spect to  the  properties,  the  temporal  sequence,  and  the  causal 
relations  of  mental  processes.  In  a  word,  all  our  school  sub- 
jects, in  so  far  as  they  are  scientific  in  aim,  are  concerned 
with  the  temporal,  spatial,  attributive,  and  causal  relations 
of  their  respective  subject  matters;  they  purport  to  be  an- 
swers to  the  questions  —  what?  when?  where?  why? 

Relation  of  Ideation  and  Judgment.  — We  have  said 
a  number  of  times,  in  the  course  of  our  study,  that 
our  mental  activities  are  more  intimately  related 
than  one  might  infer  from  a  hasty  survey  of  the 
chapter  headings  of  a  text-book  of  psychology ;  that 
we  should  think  of  such  terms  as  Perception,  Mem- 
ory, Imagination,  Thought,  as  the  names  of  the  dis- 
tinguishable or  the  dominant  aspects  of  the  succes- 
sive portions  of  the  stream  of  consciousness,  not  as 
the  names  of  isolated  activities,  independent  and 
sharply  marked  off  from  one  another.  Thus  each 
of  the  functions  just  named  involves,  in  some  meas- 
ure, the  others.  Every  perception,  for  instance,  in- 
volves memory  and  thought;  thought  involves  mem- 
ory and  imagination ;  and  imagination,  perceptual 
and  thought  factors.    It  is  only  in  our  effort  to  psy- 


256  ELEMENTS   OF  PSYCHOLOGY 

chologize  our  experience  that  we  distinguish  its 
several  phases  and  give  them  separate  names. 

We  have  next  to  remark  that  our  distinction  of 
the  thought  processes,  as  either  Ideations  or  Judg- 
ments, does  not  mean  that  they  are  wholly  distinct 
functions.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  they  are  closely 
related;  the  one  always  involves  the  other.  Or, 
stated  otherwise,  every  case  of  ideation  is,  in  a  cer- 
tain sense,  a  judgment,  and  every  judgment  in- 
volves ideation.  Thus,  in  order  to  think  of,  to  mean, 
a  tree  or  a  star  one  must  think  of  some  of  its  rela- 
tions, of  its  kind,  its  name  or  qualities  or  location, 
or  possibly  the  bare  thought  of  its  existence,  that  it 
belongs  to  the  world  of  things.  In  a  word,  all 
thoughts  of  things  are  really  implicit  judgments. 
Even  the  rudimentary  forms  of  recognition,  the  first 
dim  thoughts  that  present  experiences  are  similar 
to  or  different  from  earlier  ones ;  the  infant's  earliest 
acts  of  intellectually  seizing  upon  and  lifting  apart 
one  feature  of  his  world  from  the  total  confused  mass 
of  sensations  and  feelings,  are  rudimentary  judg- 
ments. 

The  presence  of  ideation  in  judgment  is  more 
easily  observed.  For  instance,  in  order  to  judge  — 
'Eagles  belong  to  the  zoological  order  of  raptores' 
(birds  of  prey) ,  or  that  'Cicero  was  an  orator',  one 
must  first  conceive  of,  mean,  the  objects  related. 
The  judgment  consists  in  the  thought  of  the  relation 
between  the  conceived  objects. 

Judgment  and  Reasoning.  — According  to  the  class- 
ification  proposed   in  this  chapter,   there  are  two 


THOUGHT   AND   THE   THOUGHT   PROCESSES      257 

fundamental  forms  or  kinds  of  thought  processes: 
thoughts  of,  and  thoughts  about,  or  conceptions  and 
judgments.  Reasoning  belongs,  in  this  broad  classi- 
fication, to  the  group  of  thoughts  about,  or  judg- 
ments; reasoning  is  a  form  of  judging;  or,  more 
accurately,  reasoning  is  a  series  of  intimately  re- 
lated judgments.  A  part  of  the  work  of  the  suc- 
ceeding paragraphs  will  consist  in  showing  wherein 
judgment  and  reasoning,  as  thought  processes,  are 
alike  and  wherein  they  are  different. 

Reasoning.  —  For  centuries  man  has  claimed  the 
proud  distinction  of  being  the  reasoning  animal.  But 
more  recently  the  critic  and  the  iconoclast  have  come 
forth  to  challenge  man's  exclusive  claim  to  this 
superiority,  and  have  maintained  that  the  lower  ani- 
mals also  reason.  It  is  foreign  to  our  purpose  to 
enter  into  the  merits  of  the  debate  that  has  ensued. 
It  may  be  observed,  however,  that  the  controversy 
has  been  prolonged  by  the  fa 'lure  either  to  recognize 
or  to  state  clearly,  the  fact  that  there  are  several 
kinds,  grades,  or  stages  of  the  reasoning  activity. 
Evidently,  the  final  answer  t^  the  question,  ''Do  ani- 
mals reason?"  will  depend  upon  what  precisely  we 
shall  mean  by  'reason'. 

We  may  distinguish  broadly  two  forms  of  the 
reasoning  activity  according  to  the  extent  to  which 
the  grounds  of  a  given  judgment,  or  conclusion,  are 
factors  of  the  reasoning  process.  In  the  first  form, 
explicit  reasoning  —  reasoning  in  the  narrow  and 
more  precise  meaning  of  the  term  —  the  grounds  of 
the  conclusion  are  clearly  and  fully  set  forth;  while 


258  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

in  the  second,  implicit  reasoning,  the  grounds  are 
only  in  part  present  to  consciousness. 

Explicit  Reasoning.  —  Explicit  reasoning  is  often 
described  as  a  series  of  judgments  of  whose  grounds 
we  are  clearly  conscious ;  or  as  the  process  of  deriv- 
ing from  given  propositions  their  natural  conclus- 
ions, those  that  necessarily  result  from  them.  Now, 
while  these  and  similar  statements  may  be  accepted 
as  formally  correct,  they  really  tell  us  very  little 
about  the  intimate  nature  of  the  reasoning  process. 
It  is  necessary,  therefore,  to  search  farther  for  its 
more  or  less  hidden  factors.  We  have  to  inquire  par- 
ticularly concerning  the  grounds  whereby  we  pass 
from  judgment  to  judgment  in  reasoning. 

As  an  aid  in  this  inquiry,  let  us  suppose  the  case 
of  a  child  who  has  heard  many  stories  of  the  fero- 
city of  lions,  of  how  they  pounce  upon  and  devour 
weaker  animals,  including  human  beings,  but  who 
has  never  seen  a  lion  or  even  a  picture  of  one,  and 
so  has  no  idea  of  what  sort  of  creatures  lions  are, 
except  that  thej^  are  dangerous.  Let  us  suppose, 
further,  that  the  child  now  visits  a  menagerie,  and 
that,  after  a  time,  pauses  in  front  of  a  cage  con- 
taining a  lion  which  we  may  call  'Duke'.  At  first, 
the  child's  manner  is  one  of  admiration,  interested 
curiosity,  desire  to  pat  Duke,  and  so  on.  Then  some 
one  tells  him  that  Duke,  the  creature  in  the  cage,  is 
a  lion.  At  once  the  child  recalls  the  fact  that  lions 
are  dangerous  and  he  immediately  concludes  that 
this  particular  lion  is  dangerous ;  his  admiration  and 
longing  to  pat  give  way  to  fear  and  shrinking.  His 
earlier  knowledge,  stated  in  the  form  of  a  judgment, 


THOUGHT  AND   THE   THOUGHT   PROCESSES      259 

is:  Lions  are  dangerous;  his  new  knowledge,  sim- 
ilarly stated,  is  —  this  animal,  Duke,  is  a  lion ;  the 
conclusion,  Duke  is  dangerous,  together  with  the 
resulting  change  in  behavior,  quickly  follow. 

A  second  illustration  of  reasoning,  in  the  stricter 
meaning  of  the  term,  is  afforded  by  the  story  of  the 
discovery  of  the  planet,  Neptune.  The  principal 
events  that  led  to  the  discovery  were :  ( 1 )  The  com- 
putation of  the  motion  of  the  planet  Uranus  upon 
the  basis  of  the  known  influences  of  the  sun,  Jupiter 
and  Saturn,  i.  e.,  the  prediction  of  the  course  of 
Uranus  on  the  basis  of  these  observed  influences; 
(2)  the  observation  that  the  actual  motion  of 
Uranus  deviated  from  the  tables  based  upon  the 
attractive  force  of  these  bodies;  (3)  the  proof  first 
by  Adams  and  later  by  LeVerrier  that  the  irregu- 
larities of  the  Uranian  orbit  could  only  be  produced 
by  somebody  exterior  thereto ;  (4)  Galle's  discovery 
of  Neptune,  the  disturbing  force,  in  1846.  A  formal 
statement  of  the  steps  in  the  reasoning  which  led 
to  the  discovery  of  Neptune  would  run  somewhat 
as  follows : 

A  deviation  from  the  predicted  course  of  a  planet  is  due 
to  the  existence  of  some  hitherto  unrecognized  force.  The 
course  of  the  planet  Uranus  deviates  from  its  predicted 
course;  therefore,  its  deviation  is  due  to  some  hitherto  un- 
recognized force. 

Now,  in  each  of  the  foregoing  cases,  we  have  a 
conclusion  or  judgment  which  is  derived  from 
earlier  ones.  And  inquiry  as  to  the  manner  of  de- 
rivation, into  the  grounds  whereby  we  pass  from 
one  judgment  to  another  should  reveal  to  us  the 


260  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

hidden  factors  of  the  reasoning  process,  and  should 
clear  away  whatever  of  mystery  has  gathered  about 
it.  Take  the  two  cases  separately.  In  the  case  of 
the  child  and  the  lion,  the  necessary  first  step  was 
the  thought  that  the  present  object,  'Duke',  belongs 
to,  has  the  characteristics  of,  a  previously  known 
class  of  objects  —  'lions';  and  the  second  necessary 
step  was  the  revival  in  the  child's  consciousness  of 
one  of  'lion's'  fear-exciting  associates,  namely,  the 
idea  'dangerous';  third,  the  idea  'dangerous'  awak- 
ened its  natural  associates  —  shrinking,  fear,  desire 
to  keep  away,  and  the  like.  In  the  case  of  the  dis- 
covery of  Neptune,  the  astronomers  first  identified 
the  motion  of  Uranus  as  an  instance  of  deviation 
from  a  computed  course ;  second,  the  idea  'deviation' 
etc.,  called  up  one  of  its  associated  ideas,  namely, 
'some  unrecognized  force  is  operating'.  The  ques- 
tion, what  is  that  force?  and  the  search  for  it,  easily 
followed.  Reasoning  proper  is  thus  seen  to  consist 
of:  (1)  a  judgment,  or  a  series  of  judgments  based 
upon  observed  resemblances  (real  or  imaginary) 
between  present  objects  and  earlier  known  ones, 
and  (2)  the  revival  through  association  of  certain 
of  the  latter's  properties  or  relationships  which  are, 
in  turn,  judged  to  belong  to  the  object  under  con- 
sideration. A  'good  reasoner'  is  one  who  is  expert 
in  detecting  likenesses  and  diff'erences  and  who  is 
able  to  recall  ideas  that  are  pertinent  to  the  subject 
in  hand. 

Reasoned  Judgments  and  Reasoning  Distinguished. 
—  It  may  aid  our  understanding  of  reasoning,  in  the 
narrow  meaning,  to  show  wherein  it  differs  from 


THOUGHT   AND   THE   THOUGHT  PROCESSES      261 

the  process  whereby  a  given  judgment,  already 
uttered,  is  justified,  becomes  a  reasoned  judgment. 
Take  two  simple  cases.  The  astronomers  had  com- 
puted the  course  of  the  planet  Uranus  on  the  basis 
of  the  known  attractive  forces  of  other  members  of 
the  solar  system.  Then  it  was  observed  that  Uranus 
deviated  from  its  predicted  course ;  next  is  was  sur- 
mised that  some  unrecognized  force  was  affecting 
the  motion  of  the  planet ;  the  search  for  the  disturb- 
ing factor,  and  the  discovery  of  Neptune  followed. 
The  conclusion  was  reached,  as  we  have  seen,  on  the 
basis  of  a  series  of  earlier  judgments,  by  a  process 
of  reasoning.  Now  to  illustrate  the  steps  whereby 
a  judgment  is  grounded,  becomes  'reasoned',  let  us 
suppose  that  two  persons  are  standing  on  the  shore 
of  a  lake  which  is  frozen  over ;  suppose  further,  that 
one  of  the  two  persons  is  familiar  with  frozen  bodies 
of  water  and  that  the  other  has  never  seen  one  and 
knows  nothing  about  them.  Suppose  that  the  first 
person  remarks,  "How  thick  the  ice  is !" ;  where- 
upon the  second  asks,  "How  do  you  know  it  is 
thick?"  The  answer  consists  in  stating  the  grounds 
of  the  judgment,  thus:  thick  ice  looks  thus  and  so, 
it  easily  supports  a  heavy  weight,  one  can't  break  it 
with  a  big  stone,  pounding  it  with  a  stick  produces 
a  given  sound,  and  so  on.  The  next  step  is  —  this 
ice  has  these  properties ;  therefore,  it  is  thick.  The 
difference  between  a  judgment  that  is  reached  by  a 
course  of  reasoning  and  a  reasoned  judgment  is  thus 
seen  to  consist  mainly  in  the  difference  in  the  tem- 
poral order  of  the  several  steps  leading  to  each.  In 
the  former  case,  we  advance  step  by  step  to  a  given 


262  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

conclusion;  whereas,  in  the  latter,  we  search  out 
the  grounds  of  a  judgment  after  it  has  been  uttered. 

Implicit  Reasoning.  —  It  appears  from  the  fore- 
going sketch  that  the  first  step  in  a  particular  in- 
stance of  explicit  reasoning  is  the  thought  that  a 
particular  object  belongs  to  a  given  class  of  objects 
which  is  known  to  possess  certain  characteristics 
and  relationships;  further,  that  the  conclusion  in 
such  reasoning  is  reached  through  the  associative 
revival  of  some  of  the  earlier  known  class  of  object's 
characteristics  and  relationships  which  are  then 
linked  to  the  present  object. 

Now  the  same  processes  are  involved,  but  not  all 
of  them  are  definitely  present,  in  implicit  reasoning. 
In  this  case,  a  present  fact,  or  some  feature  thereof, 
recalls  some  earlier  known  fact,  whereupon  the 
qualities  or  behavior  of  the  latter  are  forthwith  at- 
tributed to  the  former.  Sometimes,  in  this  kind  of 
reasoning,  the  basis  of  the  recall,  which,  as  a  rule, 
is  the  similarity  between  some  aspect  or  aspects  of 
the  two  facts,  is  unrecognized.  Similarity  operates, 
in  the  manner  described  above  (p.  211  ff),  to  revive 
the  thought  of  the  earlier  fact,  but  the  similarity  is 
not  itself  separately  apprehended. 

Everyday  experience  affords  us  abundant  illus- 
trations of  this  form  of  reasoning,  i.  e.,  of  conclus- 
ions based  immediately  on  the  resemblance  between 
a  present  fact  and  some  other  known  fact.  For  in- 
stance, an  oculist  describes  a  given  case  of  eye  defect 
as  myopia  because  it  calls  to  mind  similar  cases  that 
have  received  that  name.  We  expect  the  Oxford 
graduate   B.    to   speak   good   English    because   our 


THOUGHT   AND   THE   THOUGHT   PROCESSES      263 

friend  A.,  an  Oxford  man,  does  so ;  we  expect  our 
new  pair  of  shoes,  purchased  at  X's  store,  to  wear 
well  because  an  earlier  pair  purchased  there  wore 
well.  Of  course,  the  conclusion  in  a  given  case  may 
be  wholly  unwarranted,  either  because  of  the  faulty 
form  in  which  our  premises  are  stated,  or  because 
of  their  inherent  falsity.  Nevertheless,  this  form  of 
reasoning  is  often  practicallj^  effective;  and  it  is  at 
all  times  satisfactory  to  a  large  majority  of  persons. 
It  is  commonly  regarded  a  piece  of  pedantry  or  im- 
pertinence to  inquire  too  closely  into  the  grounds 
of  a  fellow-man's  judgments,  opinions,  beliefs,  even 
when  they  are  evidently  based  upon  shadowy  anal- 
ogies. 

Figures  of  speech,  particularly  personifications, 
similes,  metaphors,  afford  other  illustrations  of  im- 
plicit reasoning.  The  poet  describes  the  sea  as 
'angry'  because  something  in  its  appearance  reminds 
him  of  the  behavior  of  an  enraged  man.  The  ground 
of  such  descriptive  terms  as  'foxy',  'pachyderma- 
tous', 'princely',  and  the  like,  when  applied  to  hu- 
man conduct,  is  obviously  a  similarity  in  the  prop- 
erties of  objects  that  are  usually  far  apart  in  our 
thinking.  Again,  the  analogical  basis  is  evident  in 
our  characterization  of  a  given  person's  mind  as 
acute,  keen ;  his  speech  as  cackling  or  growling,  or 
his  character  as  jelly-like  or  as  standing  four-square 
to  every  wind  that  blows. 

If  we  may  use  the  term  reasoning  in  a  very  broad  mean- 
ing, we  may  distinguish  a  third  form  —  that,  namely,  in 
which  conclusions,  or  judgments,  are  uttered  without  the  dis- 
tinct apprehension  of  any  ground,  but  solely  on  the  basis  of 


264  ELEMENTS   OF  PSYCHOLOGY 

mental  habits  of  thinking  of  given  things  after  thinking  of 
other  given  things.  This  form  of  reasoning  is  meant  when 
it  is  said  that  memories  or  even  perceptions  involve  reason- 
ing, that  if  we  make  explicit  the  grounds  of  either  a  per- 
ception or  a  memory  we  shall  have  good  and  true  cases  of 
reasoning.  For  instance,  the  perception  'oranges',  as  one 
looks  at  a  fruit  dealer's  window  display,  involves  reasoning 
in  the  sense  that  on  the  basis  solely  of  the  sensory  expe- 
riences of  patches  of  orange  color  of  a  given  size  and  form, 
one  names  the  objects  'oranges'.  The  implied  steps  are, 
oranges  are  objects  cf  a  given  size  and  color;  the  present 
objects  are  like  oranges  in  these  respects;  therefore,  they  are 
oranges. 

Further,  if  this  extension  of  reasoning's  meaning  is  made, 
then  it  is  true,  as  is  often  remarked,  that  it  is  involved  in 
even  the  earliest  and  simplest  cognitive  processes.  Even 
the  earliest  perceptions  of  infancy  may  then  be  regarded  as 
cases  of  implicit  reasoning;  that  is,  if  we  search  for  the 
grounds  of  these  perceptions  we  shall  find  among  the  stored 
up  results  of  the  infant's  earlier  experiences  certain  factors 
which,  if  brought  to  light  and  clearly  expressed,  would  give 
such  perceptions  the  character  of  reasoned  judgments.  To 
illustrate:  reasoning  is  implicit  in  the  half  articulate  baby's 
cry,  'boo',  or  other  sound,  which  means  'dog'  or  'barking-dog- 
out-there'.  The  grounds,  or  warrant  for  the  cry  and  its 
meaning,  if  made  explicit,  would  run  as  follows: 

Dogs  make  barking  sounds. 

This  present  sound  is  one  of  barking; 

Therefore,  it  is  made  by  a  dog. 

Inductive  and  Deductive  Reasoning  Distinguished. 
—  The  distinction  usually  drawn  between  inductive 
and  deductive  reasoning  is  logical  rather  than  psy- 
chological. From  the  former  point  of  view,  induc- 
tive reasoning  is  the  process  of  passing  from  par- 
ticular facts  or  instances  to  general  principles  or 


THOUGHT   AND   THE   THOUGHT   PROCESSES      265 

laws,  while  deductive  reasoning  consists  in  applying 
general  principles  or  laws  to  particular  facts. 

A  comparison  of  induction  and  deduction,  from 
the  point  of  view  of  psychology,  shows  the  same 
activities  in  both,  namely,  selective  attention,  com- 
parison, associative  revival,  and  mental  habit.  Thus 
in  inductive  reasoning  one  first  observes  that  objects 
of  the  same  class  or  kind,  or  that  possess  in  common 
certain  attributes  or  qualities  or  modes  of  behavior, 
possess  also,  in  common,  certain  other  attributes, 
qualities,  or  modes  of  behavior;  second,  one  con- 
cludes on  the  basis  of  a  number  of  these  observa- 
tions that  the  observed  concomitance  of  class  of  ob- 
ject and  attribute,  or  of  attribute  and  attribute,  holds 
uniformly.  For  instance,  a  child  observes  that  cer- 
tain wooden  things  —  bits  of  wood,  blocks,  wooden 
boats,  limbs  of  trees,  boards  —  float  in  water,  and 
concludes  therefrom  that  all  wooden  things  will  do 
likewise.  Or,  again,  he  observes  that  dogs  that  have 
broad  chests,  thick  necks,  and  protruding  under- 
jaws,  are  also  unsociable,  unfriendly,  and  so  unde- 
sirable pets ;  and  on  the  basis  of  a  number  of  such 
observations,  he  forms  the  habit  of  thinking  that 
dogs  that  possess  these  physical  attributes  are  also 
unsociable,  sullen  in  manner,  undesirable  pets.  In 
brief,  the  essential  steps  in  these  and  similar  cases 
of  inductive  reasoning  are;  (1)  attention  to  some 
particular  property  or  properties  of  a  given  object; 
(2)  the  observation  that  the  property  belongs  also 
to  other  similar  objects;  (3)  the  habit  of  thinking 
of  the  property  in  connection  with  the  thought  of 
those  objects. 


266  ELEMENTS   OF  PSYCHOLOGY 

Deductive  reasoning  shows  the  same  mental  activ- 
ities. One  first  observes  that  a  particular  object 
resembles  in  some  respect  an  earlier  known  class  of 
objects  and  belongs  thereto;  next  one  recalls  the  at- 
tributes that  have  been  associated  with  the  thought 
of  the  class  and  affirms  that  they  belong  to  the  pres- 
ent object.  For  instance,  a  child  first  observes  that 
certain  of  his  toys  are  wooden ;  then,  recalling  that 
wooden  things  float  in  water,  judges  that  his  wooden 
toys  will  also  float  in  water. 

Thoughts'  Vehicles.  —  In  the  section  on  'Image 
and  Idea',  (p.  143  f.)  it  was  said  that  it  is  not  neces- 
sary to  have  an  image  of  a  thing  in  order  to  think  of, 
or  mean  it ;  it  is  sufficient  to  have  its  name  or  label, 
or  any  kind  of  sign  whereby  we  may  designate  it. 
We  saw,  moreover,  that  we  are  able  to  think  of,  or 
mean,  many  things  which  we  cannot  perceive  or 
image.  For  example,  we  can  think  of  velocity, 
equality,  acceleration,  time,  space,  a  plane  figure  of 
a  hundred  sides,  a  round-square,  but  we  cannot  form 
images  of  them. 

It  may  be  observed  next  that  any  item  or  content 
of  consciousness  may  serve  as  the  vehicle  of  our 
thought  of  any  particular  thing  or  group  of  things, 
or  of  judgments  concerning  them.  Thus  in  the 
thought,  "The  General  was  present,"  the  idea  or 
thought  of  the  General's  presence  may  be  carried 
by  any  one  of  a  number  of  conscious  processes ;  for 
example,  by  the  sight,  sound,  or  'feeling'  of  the 
words,  'General  was  present',  by  an  image  of  some 
particular  General,  by  a  mental  picture  of  a  stately 
figure   seen   standing,   walking,   or  riding;   by   the 


THOUGHT   AND   THE   THOUGHT   PROCESSES      267 

image  either  of  a  peculiarly  shaped  hat,  or  of  the 
rattle  of  spurs,  or  of  a  commanding  voice,  or  of 
firmly  set  jaws ;  or  even  a  General-like  thrill  of  dig- 
nity, or  of  devotion  to  duty,  or  of  the  sense  of  re- 
sponsibility, may  serve  as  the  vehicle  of  such  a 
thought. 

No  doubt,  most  meanings  are  carried  by  images 
either  of  the  things  meant  or  by  images  of  the  signs 
and  words  that  name  and  describe  them,  or  by  sen- 
sations from  the  speech  organs.  But  they  may  be 
carried  also  by  means  of  various  complexes  of  un- 
localized  organic  sensations.  Take,  for  illustration 
of  the  last  mentioned  means,  Washburn's  original 
suggestion  as  to  the  probable  origin  of  the  conscious- 
ness of  contradiction  or  opposition  as  expressed  by 
the  conjunction  'but'.  "The  consciousness  of  'but'," 
Washburn  writes,  in  substance,  "is  a  remnant  of  re- 
motely ancestral  motor  attitudes,  and  it  resists  anal- 
ysis now  because  of  its  vestigial  nature.  Take,  for 
example,  the  sense  of  contradiction  between  two 
ideas  when  we  say,  'I  should  like  to  do  so  and  so,  but 
—  here  is  an  objection'.  If  we  trace  this  back  what 
can  it  have  been  originally  but  the  experience  of 
primitive  organisms  called  upon  by  simultaneous 
stimuli  to  make  two  incompatible  reactions  at  once, 
and  what  can  that  experience  have  been  but  a  cer- 
tain suspended,  baffled  motor  attitude?"  ^  In  other 
words,  the  idea  or  feeling  of  'but'  must  have  arisen 
originally  when  some  'primitive  organism'  desired 
two  incompatible  'goods' ;  when,  for  instance,  some 
hungry,  savage  hunter  swayed  between  the  desire 


^Journal  of  Phil.  Psych.   Sci.  Methods,  vol.  Ill,  p.   63. 


268  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

to  eat  his  dog  and  the  thought  of  the  dog's  help  in 
future  hunting  excursions.  The  point  is  that  the 
'suspended,  baffled  motor  attitude'  which,  in  the  case 
supposed,  constitutes  the  consciousness  of  contradic- 
tion, of  incompatibility  between  two  desired  courses 
of  action,  is  a  complex  of  kinaesthetic,  and  possibly 
other  organic,  sensations ;  and  that  these  sensations 
of  the  primitive  organism  mean  contradiction,  oppo- 
sition. 

Now,  while  it  seems  probable  that  sensations  of  this  kind 
constitute  an  important,  perhaps  the  chief,  factor  in  the 
primitive  organism's  sense  of  contradiction,  it  is  in  place  to 
add  that  they  are  also  an  important  factor  in  the  higher 
organism's  —  e.  g.,  in  a  civilised  man's  —  sense  of  contradic- 
tion. Accordingly,  Titchener,  commenting  upon  the  passage 
just  quoted  from  Washburn,  humorously  observes  that  inas- 
much as  the  sense  of  contradiction  is  for  him  composed  partly 
of  the  feeling  of  the  suspended  motor  attitude,  an  organism 
need  not  be  more  primitive  than  a  professor  of  psychology 
in  an  American  university  to  experience  it. 

In  the  present  chapter  we  first  studied  the  general 
nature  of  thinking;  second,  we  endeavored  to  de- 
scribe the  mental  activities  involved  in  ideation,  or 
conception,  judgment,  and  reasoning,  the  simpler, 
the  more  fundamental  forms  of  thinking.  In  the 
next  chapter  we  shall  study  comparison,  analysis, 
and  generalization,  thought  processes  that  involve 
the  simpler  forms  described  in  the  present  chapter. 


CHAPTER  XII 

THE   THOUGHT-PROCESSES    (CONTINUED) 

Comparison :  Conditions.— "Thinking,'  Sully  writes, 
'has  in  a  special  manner,  to  do  with  the  detection  of 
similarity  and  dissimilarity,  or  difference."  The 
special  form  of  thought  which  has  to  do  with  the 
discovery  of  likenesses  and  differences  is  called 
Comparison,  which  may  be  defined  as  the  consider- 
ation of  two  or  more  objects  in  order  to  discover 
wherein  they  are  alike  and  wherein  they  differ.  Or, 
to  give  Stout's  fuller  definition : 

"By  deliberate  comparison',  he  writes,  'I  mean  a  mental 
confronting  of  the  two  objects,  and  a  transition  of  attention 
from  the  one  to  the  other,  so  as  to  discover  some  respect  in 
which  similar  things  differ  in  spite  of  their  similarity,  or  in 
which  different  things  agree  in  spite  of  their  diversity,  and 
also  a  fixing  of  the  precise  nature  of  this  agreement  or 
difference."  ^ 

Two  points  of  this  definition  require  brief  notice : 
first,  'deliberate  comparison'  is  to  be  distinguished 
from  the  mere  awareness  of  difference  or  likeness 
which  arises  'involuntarily'.  The  former  is  pur- 
posive, while  the  latter  is  purposeless.  In  the  sec- 
ond place,  comparison  involves  not  only  the  search 
for  differences  and  likenesses -among  objects,  but 
also  a  determination  of  the  nature  of  the  differences 
or  likenesses  themselves.     Thus,  in  the  comparison 


'  A  Manual  of  Psychology,  1899,   p.    452. 
•        (269) 


270  ELEMENTS   OF  PSYCHOLOGY 

of  the  tones  of  musical  instruments,  we  not  only 
inquire  whether  the  tones  are  alike  or  different,  but 
we  also  inquire  as  to  the  precise  nature  of  the  dis- 
,covered  likeness  or  difference. 

Conditions.  —  The  conditions  which  facilitate  the 
process  of  discovering  likenesses  and  differences 
may  be  grouped  as  either  objective,  those  which  be- 
long to  the  nature  of  the  objects  compared,  or  sub- 
jective, those  which  belong  to  the  nature  of  the  indi- 
vidual mind  which  makes  the  comparison;  we  shall 
give  a  few  examples  of  each  class. 

One  objective  condition  is  that  the  objects  to  be 
compared,  whether  objects  of  sense  or  mental  phe- 
nomena, shall  have  one  or  more  features  in  common. 
Thus  one  may  compare  the  jingle  of  sleighbells  and 
the  ringing  of  a  dinner  bell,  but  it  probably  never 
occurs  to  any  of  us  to  compare  the  ringing  of  bells 
with  the  taste  of  olives.  We  may  also  compare  one 
emotion  with  another,  but  we  do  not  compare  emo- 
tions with  our  visual  images.  Again,  we  may  com- 
pare two  Algebra  text-books  with  respect  to  their 
precision  and  accuracy,  but  we  do  not  compare  an 
Algebra  text  with  one  on  botany.  The  existence  of 
a  common  ground  occupied  by  the  objects  to  be  com- 
pared then  is  the  first  condition  of  a  comparison 
occurring  at  all;  otherwise  there  is  no  motive  or 
reason  for  it.  (2)  A  second  condition  is  that  the 
objects  must  be  known  or  believed  to  be  different. 
We  do  not  compare  two  pencils  which  we  believe  or 
know  to  be  precisely  alike.  If  we  render  any  judg- 
ment at  all  regarding  them  it  is  that  they  are  alike 
and  there  the  matter  ends.     In  brief,  comparison 


THE   THOUGHT   PROCESSES  271 

presupposes  both  a  recognized  similarity  and  a  recog- 
nized difference  between  the  objects  compared. 

Among  the  subjective  conditions  of  comparison 
(in  addition  to  the  general  purpose,  already  men- 
tioned) should  be  named,  first,  the  possession  of 
clear  and  accurate  images  and  ideas  of  the  objects 
to  be  compared;  and  this,  in  the  case  of  sense- 
objects,  depends  in  the  first  place  upon  the  proper 
functioning  of  the  sense-organs.  Obviously  the 
color-blind  person  cannot  discover  in  a  landscape  as 
many  colors  for  comparison  as  a  person  whose  vision 
is  normal ;  nor  can  a  person  whose  hearing  is  dull 
in  a  given  direction  —  say  for  musical  tones  —  have 
the  materials  for  comparison  in  that  field.  So  also 
the  comparison  of  ideas,  e.  g.,  the  meanings  of  two 
words  like  'envy'  and  'jealousy'  or  'pride'  and  'van- 
ity', depends  upon  the  possession  of  clear  and  dis- 
tinct ideas  of  the  meanings  themselves.  A  second 
subjective  condition  is  the  ability  to  revive  and  to 
keep  focal  in  consciousness  ideas  or  images  of  the 
objects  compared.  A  little  child  fails  in  his  com- 
parison of  objects,  even  as  simple  as  two  apples, 
partly  because  he  cannot  keep  in  mind  an  image  of 
the  features  of  the  one  while  he  examines  the  other. 

In  discussing?  a  related  topic,  Stout  observes  that  "the 
absence  of  comparison  in  animals,  in  all  but  its  most  vague 
and  rudimentary  form,  [is  due]  to  the  absence  or  to  the  ex- 
tremely imperfect  development  of  ideational  activity  in  gen- 
eral," i.  e.,  to  the  inability  to  image  or  think  of  experiences 
after  they  have  passed.' 


^Manual  of  Psychology,  p.   456. 


272  ELEMENTS   OF  PSYCHOLOGY 

It  may  be  of  interest  to  note  in  passing  that  Stout's  view 
in  reg-ard  to  comparison  in  animals  is  in  striking  contrast 
with  that  held  by  the  animal  psychologists  of  a  generation 
ago.  They  would  have  felt  little  hesitancy  in  ascribing  the 
power  of  comparison  to  very  many  of  the  lower  animals, 
even  to  the  honey-bee  that  helped  King  Solomon  solve  the 
puzzle  of  the  real  and  artificial  clover  blossoms.  At  the 
present  time,  however,  the  more  careful  students  of  animal 
behavior  agree  with  Stout  that  comparison  in  animals,  in  all 
but  its  most  vague  and  rudimentary  form,  is  absent.  Forms 
of  animal  behavior,  which  were  formerly  thought  to  depend 
upon  the  results  of  comparison,  are  now  seen  to  be  due  to 
either  instinctive  tendencies  or  to  a  simple  association  be- 
tween given  stimuli  and  certain  acquired  modes  of  respond- 
ing thereto.  Thus  the  difference  in  the  actions  of  a  cat  when 
it  pounces  upon  a  mouse  on  one  occasion  and  runs  from  a 
strange  dog  on  another,  is  not  due  to  a  process  of  comparison, 
but  to  inborn  tendencies  confirmed  by  experience.  Nor  is  it 
correct  to  say  that  Morgan's  now  famous  chickens  'learned  to 
discriminate'  between  nice  edible  worms  and  the  nasty  cinna- 
bar caterpillars.'  There  was  nothing  in  the  chickens'  be- 
havior, as  doubtless  Morgan  himself  would  admit,  which 
would  warrant  one  in  ascribing  the  power  of  comparison  to 
them.  'The  discriminating  by  sight  between  the  two  objects', 
and  the  association  of  the  appearance  or  sight  of  the  cater- 
pillar with  an  unpleasant  taste  or  odor  and  that  of  the  edible 
worms  with  pleasant  gustatory  results,  is  sufficient  to  account 
for  the  chickens'  quickness  to  seize  the  edible  worms  in  the 
one  case  and  their  aversion  to  cinnabar  caterpillars  in  the 
other.  In  general  it  may  be  said  that  no  lower  animal  ever 
searches  for  differences  and  likenesses  per  se:  and  that  ani- 
mal behavior  is  controlled  either  by  inherited  tendencies  or 
by  the  tendencies  acquired  in  the  course  of  a  series  of  pleas- 
ant or  unpleasant  experiences,  and  never  by  thought. 

Discrimination.  —  We  have  just  stated  the  general 
nature  and  conditions  of  Comparison.    We  shall  now 


1  An  Introduction  to   Comparative  Psychology,  1902,  Chap.  XII. 


THE   THOUGHT   PROCESSES  273 

study  a  little  further  that  form  of  comparison,  called 
Discrimination. 

Discrimination  may  be  defined  as  the  comparison 
of  two  or  more  objects  in  order  to  discover  wherein 
they  differ.  Thus  conceived,  discrimination  is  dis- 
tinguished from  differentiation  (which,  as  we  have 
seen,  is  the  emergence  in  the  course  of  mental  devel- 
opment of  an  increasing  varietj^  of  mental  expe- 
riences) mainly  by  the  fact  that  differentiation  is, 
in  large  measure,  spontaneous,  involuntary,  the  re- 
sult of  mere  inner  growth  processes,  while  discrim- 
ination, as  a  thought  process,  involves  a  search  for 
differences.  For  example,  in  the  course  of  the  nor- 
mal development  of  the  sense  of  hearing,  the  child 
is  enabled  to  distinguish  the  tones  of  two  musical 
instruments,  the  tones  are  said  to  become  differen- 
tiated in  his  experience;  but  attention  to  the  tones 
of  the  two  instruments  in  order  to  discover  their 
differences,  the  discriminative  comparison  of  them, 
involves  a  purpose  and  so  implies  a  higher  stage  of 
mental  development  than  the  mere  consciousness 
that  they  are  different. 

The  difference  between  differentiation  and  dis- 
crimination may  be  further  emphasized  by  remark- 
ing that  to  experience  two  different  sensations,  say 
of  taste  or  temperature,  is  one  thing;  to  attend  to 
the  difference  itself,  is  an  altogether  different  thing. 
Thus  when  first  a  warm,  then  a  cold  object  touches 
a  baby's  skin,  two  different  sensations  arise  in  the 
baby's  consciousness ;  but  at  first  there  is  no  idea  or 
thought  of  the  difference  as  such ;  much  less  is  there 
reflection,  as  there  may  be  in  the  case  of  an  older 

18 


274  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

person,  about  the  nature  of  the  difference.  Discrim- 
ination involves  the  'focusing-  of  attention'  on  the 
difference  itself  and  clearly  belongs  to  a  more  ad- 
vanced stage  of  mental  development. 

Individual  Differences  in  Discrimination.  —  In  our 
enumeration  of  the  subjective  conditions  of  compar- 
ison, we  have  already  referred  to  the  obvious  fact 
that  in  the  field  of  our  sensory  experiences  compar- 
ison depends  primarily  upon  the  normal  functioning 
of  the  sense-organs ;  if  this  is  lacking  the  necessary 
ground  for  the  detection  of  either  differences  or 
likenesses  is  wanting.  It  was  said  also  that  other 
necessary  conditions  of  comparison  are,  (1)  the  for- 
mation of  clear,  vivid  images  or  ideas  of  the  sub- 
jects of  comparison;  and  (2)  the  ability  to  retain 
the  images  or  ideas  thereof  focal  in  consciousness 
while  they  are  being  compared.  In  addition  to  these 
general  conditions  of  comparison  we  may  now  note 
certain  special  conditions  of  discrimination,  which 
are,  at  the  same  time,  the  grounds  of  the  individual 
differences  referred  to  in  James'  observation  that 
some  men  'have  sharper  senses  than  others,  and  that 
some  have  acuter  minds  and  are  able  to  see  two 
shades  of  meaning  where  the  majority  see  but  one.' 
First,  may  be  mentioned  the  general  fact  that  some 
persons  are  naturally  keenly  alive  to  distinctions, 
as  such ;  and  that  others  are  dull  to  them,  they 
seem  to  lack  the  sense  of  difference.  "Some  per- 
sons," as  Sully  remarks,  "are  struck  more  by  a  like- 
ness, others  by  a  difference." 

A  second  special  ground  of  difference  in  the  dis- 
criminating power  of  individuals  is  found  in  the 


THE   THOUGHT   PROCESSES  275 

varying  sorts  and  amounts  of  exercise  which  this 
function  has  received.  It  is  well  known  that  exercise 
or  practice  sharpens  the  wits  for  distinctions  which 
otherwise  are  overlooked.  A  person  who  is  able  to 
draw  the  sharpest  lines  within  the  field  of  his  own 
special  interests  and  activities,  whether  practical 
or  theoretical,  is  blind  to  distinctions  which  lie  out- 
side his  own  sphere.  The  skilled  oculist,  for  ex- 
ample, sees  a  multitude  of  differences,  which  for  the 
layman  are  wholly  non-existent,  between  the  phys- 
ical conditions  and  functioning  of  a  normal  and  an 
abnormal  eye.  But  let  the  oculist  and  a  breeder  of 
sheep  drive  through  a  sheep-raising  country  and  the 
latter  will  be  able  to  point  out  many  things  about 
sheep  which  entirely  escape  the  attention  of  the 
oculist.  And  so  difference  in  education  or  exercise 
accounts  in  part  for  the  variations  among  individ- 
uals in  respect  to  their  discriminating  power.  The 
chemist,  the  lawyer,  the  sculptor,  the  merchant,  in 
the  course  of  their  education,  acquire  skill  in  noting 
numerous  distinctions  within  their  own  special  fields 
to  which  the  outsider  is  deaf  and  blind. 

A  third  special  ground  of  individual  differences 
in  the  discriminating  power,  in  the  ability  to  make 
fine  distinctions,  depends,  Locke  suggests,  upon  the 
presence  or  absence  of  a  certain  poise,  steadiness, 
and  calmness  of  temper,  on  the  possession  or  lack 
of  what  may  be  called  the  judicial  temperament,  and 
the  mental  habits  of  carefulness  which  some  per- 
sons, whose  temperaments  are  hasty  and  precipitate, 
are  unable  to  acquire. 


276  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

A  fourth  ground  of  the  superiority  of  one  indi- 
vidual over  another  in  marking  distinctions  is  the 
possession  of  a  richer  vocabulary  of  distinction 
naming  words,  which  serve  both  to  sharpen  one's 
power  of  discrimination  and  to  fix  distinctions  after 
they  are  once  perceived.  Thus,  it  has  been  shown 
experimentally  that  a  person  who  has  a  well-devel- 
oped color  vocabulary,  i.  e.,  who  knows  the  names  of 
a  great  variety  of  tints  and  shades  of  color  is  able  to 
distinguish  a  larger  number  of  colors  than  a  person, 
a  child,  e.  g.,  whose  vocabulary  is  limited.  Similarly, 
in  the  other  sense  departments,  the  ability  to  dis- 
criminate varieties  of  sense  experience  is  dependent 
in  a  marked  degree  upon  the  richness  or  poverty  of 
one's  vocabulary.  Witness,  for  example,  the  great 
variety  of  organic  sensations,  which  may  become 
obtrusively  real  after  we  once  know  their  names, 
but  which  for  most  persons,  fortunately  perhaps, 
are  simply  non-existent.  In  a  word,  wherever  our 
interests,  theoretical  or  practical,  require  us  to  make 
distinctions  whether  of  sensations,  feelings,  emo- 
tions, images,  ideas,  impulses  or  purposes,  the  pos- 
session of  a  wealth  of  distinction  conveying  words  is 
a  great  sharpener  of  the  wits. 

Analysis  as  a  Thought-Process.  —  For  the  little 
child  of  three  or  four,  the  world  of  what  we  call  real 
things  consists  of  a  multitude  of  simple  units  or 
wholes  without  distinction  of  parts.  His  toy  wagon 
is  something  to  draw  after  him;  he  knows  nothing 
of  tongue,  bed,  axles,  coupling-pole,  four  wheels, 
nuts  and  bolts,  as  parts  of  the  wagon;  a  chair  is 
something  to  sit  on,  not  a  piece  of  furniture  con- 


THE   THOUGHT   PROCESSES  277 

sisting  of  seat,  back,  legs,  and  rungs ;  a  tree  to  him 
is  a  unit,  and  the  distinctions  which  an  older  child 
makes  of  root,  trunk,  branches,  bark  and  leaves, 
are  for  him  simply  non-existent ;  a  doll  is  something 
to  dress  and  put  to  bed ;  a  dog,  something  that  runs 
and  barks;  a  watch,  something  that  ticks;  and  so 
on  with  respect  to  all  other  things  in  his  environ- 
ment. The  notion  that  they  are  made  up  of  parts 
has  not  entered  his  mind;  and  of  course,  analysis 
is  entirely  foreign  to  his  way  of  thinking  of  the 
things  about  him. 

But  in  the  course  of  experience  with  wholes  or 
units,  which  at  first  make  up  the  child's  world,  par- 
ticularly as  his  stock  of  words  increases,  he  comes 
to  regard  these  units  as  consisting  of  distinguishable 
parts  or  features;  he  learns  that  the  simple  things 
are  really  compounds.  This  process  has  its  begin- 
ning very  early  in  childhood,  not,  to  be  sure,  as  a 
process  of  conscious  analysis,  but  rather  in  the 
child's  inborn  tendency  to  select  for  consideration 
certain  features  of  the  objects  about  him  and  to 
neglect  the  others.  Thus  the  color  of  his  toys,  the 
'scratch'  of  his  pet  kitten,  the  bark  of  the  dog,  the 
'hurt'  feature  of  the  hot  stove,  the  various  prop- 
erties of  articles  of  food,  are  examples  of  the  numer- 
ous special  features  of  objects  to  which  he  naturally 
attends.  And,  as  was  said  just  now,  the  acquisition 
of  language  carries  with  it  a  multitude  of  distinc- 
tions of  parts  within  the  various  units  of  his  en- 
vironment. 

Analysis,  which  Baldwin's  Dictionary  defines  as 
'the  mental  function  which  proceeds  by  the  progres- 


278  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

sive  discrimination  of  the  parts  or  aspects  of  any 
kind  of  whole',  differs  from  the  easy,  natural  un- 
avoidable analysis  of  early  childhood  mainly  in  the 
fact  that  it  is  always  under  the  guidance  of  some 
purpose;  as  when,  for  example,  the  student  of  biol- 
ogy undertakes  the  enumeration  of  the  features  and 
parts  of  a  strange  plant  or  animal  in  order  to  ascer- 
tain wherein  it  is  like  and  wherein  different  from 
those  already  known;  or  when  a  politician  makes  a 
careful  analysis  of  what  he  calls  'the  political  situ- 
ation' in  order  to  ascertain  the  number  and  nature 
of  the  influences  which  are  friendly  or  unfriendly  to 
his  cause.  Again,  for  further  illustration  of  anal- 
ysis as  a  thought-process,  suppose  that  a  man  sets 
out  with  the  general  purpose  to  build  a  house.  Sup- 
pose, further,  that  he  is  inexperienced  in  this  sort  of 
thing.  He  does  not  know  how  to  proceed.  He  stands 
helpless  in  the  face  of  his  problem.  He  knows  in  a 
general  way  what  he  wishes  to  do,  but  he  does  not 
know  how  to  start.  Then  some  one  tells  him  that 
he  should  first  have  pretty  definite  ideas  as  to  the 
size,  cost,  general  appearance  and  arrangement  of 
the  house,  and  that  he  should  then  plan  the  house, 
one  feature  at  a  time  —  the  foundation  walls,  out- 
side walls,  whether  of  brick,  stone,  or  wood,  the 
character  of  the  roof,  inside  finish,  method  of  heat- 
ing, plumbing,  decorating,  doors,  windows,  hard- 
ware, and  so  on.  His  general  problem  is  thus  broken 
up  into  a  number  of  special  problems.  He  is  then 
able,  within  the  limitations  of  his  general  plan,  to 
think  of  each  featui'e  and  to  reach  a  decision  con- 
cerning it.    So  with  respect  to  the  various  problems, 


THE   THOUGHT    PROCESSES  279 

whether  theoretical  or  practical,  which  we  meet 
from  day  to  day:  we  are  forced  to  analyze  them  in 
order  to  proceed  at  all.  In  other  words,  analysis 
as  a  thought-process,  presupposes  a  difficulty  to  be 
solved;  it  is  purposive,  and  is  thus  readily  distin- 
guished from  the  reflex  attention  which  a  child  may 
give  to  the  several  features  of  an  object  of  interest, 
say  a  doll.  As  the  child  looks  at  the  doll  she  may  in 
turn  attend  to  the  color  of  the  doll's  eyes,  the  wavy, 
golden  hair,  the  tiny  feet,  the  pearly  teeth,  and  so 
on  through  the  list  of  features  which  may  catch  her 
attention.  But  we  should  not  call  this  analysis;  it 
lacks  the  essential  characteristic  of  that  process, 
namely,  the  search  for  the  several  parts  of  which  an 
object  is  believed  to  consist. 

The  Conditions  of  Analysis.  —  The  subjective  con- 
ditions of  analysis  are,  first,  the  thought  that  a  given 
object,  event,  or  situation  is  compound  and  not 
simple;  second,  a  definite-  purpose  to  analyze  it; 
and  third,  previous  knowledge  of  the  nature  of  its 
separate  parts.  The  first  two  conditions  require  no 
further  explanation.  They  are  simply,  first,  the 
idea  that  a  given  object  of  contemplation  is  presum- 
ably a  compound;  and  second,  the  determination  to 
search  out  its  factors.  In  reference  to  the  third 
condition — the  necessity  of  having  known  previously 
a  compound's  several  parts  —  James  lays  down  the 
principle  that,  "any  total  impression  made  on  the 
mind  must  be  unanalyzable,  whose  elements  are 
never  experienced  apart."  This  means  that  in  order 
to  analyze  out  the  several  elements,  properties,  or 
aspects  of  a  complex  situation,  object,  or  event,  one 


280  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

must  have  formerly  experienced  the  elements  or 
properties  either  isolatedly  or  in  some  other  relation 
or  combination  than  the  present  one.  Thus  a  per- 
son who  is  unacquainted  with  the  tastes  of  the 
essences  of  peppermint,  wintergreen,  and  sassafras 
would  get  from  a  mixture  of  these  substances  an 
unknown  single  taste,  'a  particular  integral  impres- 
sion', the  ingredients  would  not  be  recognized,  and 
an  attempted  analysis  would  fail.  ''But,"  to  quote 
James'  second  principle  regarding  the  process  of 
analysis,  "if  any  single  quality  or  constituent  of  such 
an  object,  say  the  taste  of  peppermint,  'have  pre- 
viously been  known  by  us  isolatedly,  or  have  in  any 
other  manner  already  become  an  object  of  separate 
acquaintance  on  our  part,  so  that  we  have  an  image 
of  it,  distinct  or  vague,  in  our  mind,  disconnected 
with  the  other  two  ingredients  —  [essence  of  sassa- 
fras and  essence  of  wintergreen]  then  that  con- 
stituent [essence  of  peppermint]  may  be  analyzed 
out  from  the  total  impression."  We  must  first  be 
able  to  image  or  think  of  the  element  or  feature 
which  we  seek  to  discover  in  the  compound,  and 
only  such  elements  as  we  are  acquainted  with,  and 
can  image  or  think  of  separately,  can  be  discrim- 
inated within  a  total  sense  impression.  James  cites 
in  further  illustration  of  this  principle  the  familiar 
fact  that  if  one  is  looking  for  an  object  in  a  room, 
say  for  a  book  in  a  library  ....  "one  detects 
it  the  more  readily  if  one  carries  in  one's  mind  a 
distinct  image  of  its  appearance."  Of  like  purport 
is  the  observation  that  the  leader  of  an  orchestra  is 
able  to  pick  out  the  tones  of  the  various  instruments 


THE   THOUGHT   PROCESSES  281 

thereof,  because  he  is  already  familiar  with  them  as 
separate  tones. 

It  not  infrequently  happens,  after  one  has  dis- 
covered all  the  known  elements  in  a  compound,  that 
other  features  of  the  total  experience  are  distinctly 
felt  as  present  although  they  are  not  recognized ;  they 
are  simply  known  to  exist  but  cannot  be  identified 
and  named.  For  example,  if  one  tastes  a  food  or  med- 
icine which  contains,  among  other  ingredients,  Cay- 
enne pepper,  and  if  one  has  never  experienced  the 
peculiar  pungency  of  the  latter,  then  analysis  of  the 
total  taste  experience  yields  a  new  factor  —  whether 
simple  or  complex  one  cannot  say — which  in  accord- 
ance with  the  principle  stated  above,  one  fails  to 
identify  and  of  which  one  is  unable  to  give  a  com- 
plete account. 

A  further  and  special  condition  of  analysis  is  that 
there  shall  be  a  native  capacity  for,  and  interest  in 
this  mode  of  thinking.  Every  normal  mind  pos- 
sesses some  power  of  analysis,  as  it  does  of  discrim- 
ination which  underlies  the  analytic  process,  and 
perhaps  some  interest  in  it.  But  the  capacity  varies 
greatly  from  individual  to  individual.  Moreover, 
some  persons  seem  to  have  a  native  bent  for  the 
analytic  method  of  knowing  the  world,  while  others 
are  natively  more  interested  in  similarities  and  like- 
nesses ;  they  look  upon  analysis  as  dull  and  profitless 
business. 

Generalization.  —  Almost  a  third  of  a  century  ago 
(Mind,  IX,  1884),  James  taught  the  fundamentally 
important  lesson  that,  as  conscious  processes,  there 
is  no  difference  between  a  so-called  universal,  or 


282  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

general,  idea  and  an  individual  idea ;  that  as  psychic 
states,  they  do  not  differ  except  in  the  fact  that  the 
former  is  accompanied  by  the  consciousness  that  it 
refers  to,  or  means,  a  group,  or  class  of  objects, 
whereas  the  individual  idea  is  felt  to  mean,  or  refer 
to,  an  individual  object.  The  following  quotation 
contains  his  teaching  in  outline: 

"Both  concept  [idea]  and  image,  qua  subjective  [i.  e.,  as 
segments  of  the  stream  of  consciousness]  are  singular  and 
particular.  Both  are  moments  of  the  stream  which  come  and 
in  an  instant  are  no  more.  The  word  universality  [gener- 
ality]  has  no  meaning  as  applied  to  their  psychic  body  or 

structure It  only  has  a  meaning  when  applied 

to  their  use,  import,  or  reference  to  the  kind  of  object  they 
may  reveal.  The  representation,  as  such,  of  the  universal 
object  is  as  particular  as  that  of  an  object  about  which  we 
know  so  little  that  the  interjection  "Ha"  is  all  it  can  evoke 
from  us  in  the  way  of  speech."  ^ 

.  But,  apparently,  the  lesson  which  James  taught 
was  not  well  learned,  and  was  soon  forgotten.  Re- 
cently, Titchener  taught  the  lesson  over,  simplified 
it  somewhat,  and  gave  it  an  emphasis  which  ought 
to  fix  it  as  our  guide  in  all  our  future  study  of  the 
thought  processes.     He  writes : 

"It  is  no  more  correct  to  speak,  in  psychology,  of  ...  . 
a  general  idea,  than  it  would  be  to  speak  of  a  general  sen- 
sation. What  is  general  is  not  the  idea,  the  process  in  con- 
sciousness, but  the  logical  meaning  of  which  that  process  is 
the  vehicle." " 


^Principles  of  Psychology,  Vol.  I,  p.  479.  Mind,  O.  S.,  IX,  1884, 
18  f.  The  same  teaching  is  implicit  in  Bradley's  Principles  of 
Logic,  1883. 

^Experimental  Psychology  of  the  Thought  Processes,  1909,  p.  15. 


THE   THOUGHT   PROCESSES  283 

Stated  with  a  slightly  different  emphasis,  the  two 
points  of  these  quotations  are,  first,  that  in  the  field 
of  actual  mental  experience  there  is  no  such  thing 
as  a  'general'  idea;  as  mental  processes,  every  idea 
(image)  is  particular;  and  second,  that  certain  of 
our  conscious  processes,  images,  e.  g.,  mean  groups 
or  classes  of  objects  which  possess  characteristic 
attributes  or  properties.  We  can  think  of,  mean, 
trees,  knives,  clocks,  as  groups,  and  we  can  render 
judgments  regarding  them  which  are  true  of  all 
their  members.  These  meanings,  or  thoughts  of, 
groups  or  classes  of  objects  having  common  features 
are  called  'generalizations',  or  'general  ideas',  or 
'general  notions',  or  'concepts' ;  but,  to  repeat,  these 
terms  one  and  all  express  meanings;  they  do  not 
name  special  kinds  of  mental  states. 

Now,  there  are  two  questions  of  psychological 
interest  regarding  the  process  of  Generalization  as 
thus  conceived :  first,  how  do  we  come  into  posses- 
sion of  our  general  meanings ;  second,  what  sorts 
of  conscious  processes  serve  as  their  vehicles.  In 
answer  to  the  former  question  we  may  observe  first 
that  thoughts  of  classes  of  objects,  such  as  those 
named  in  the  preceding  paragraph,  first  appear  nat- 
urally in  the  course  of  our  learning  the  language  of 
our  elders.  We  hear  them  apply  the  names — 'tree', 
'knife',  'clock',  to  certain  objects,  and  we  imitatively 
use  the  same  words  to  designate  the  same  things. 
Then  it  is  an  easy  step  from  using  a  given  sign  to 
mean  a  given  individual  object  to  using  the  same 
sign  to  niean  any  or  all  objects  which  resemble  the 
first.    That  these  are  the  early  steps  in  the  acquire- 


284  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

ment  of  general  meanings,  or  so-called  'general 
ideas',  is  clearly  shown  by  observation  of  the  lan- 
guage of  little  children,  particularly  the  mistakes 
which  they  make  at  first.  For  example,  a  child  uses 
a  given  name  to  refer  to  the  house  cat ;  then  later  he 
applies  the  same  name  to  all  cats ;  later  still  he  calls 
tigers,  leopards,  lions  by  the  same  name  which  he 
first  used  to  name  his  pet.  Or  again,  he  hears  a 
watch  called  a  *tick-tock',  which  name  he  soon  gives 
to  a  clock,  because  it,  too,  has  the  ticking  sound; 
then  later,  he  may  call  a  calendar  or  a  thermometer 
tick-tocks,  possibly  because  their  graduated  surfaces 
resemble  roughly  the  face  of  a  time-piece.  And  his 
later  education,  which  clears  up  these  errors,  con- 
sists in  getting  him  to  see  that  the  similarities  which 
he  first  noticed  are  unimportant,  that  they  do  not 
relate  to  the  essential  properties  of  the  objects  class- 
ified, and  therefore  cannot  be  the  true  grounds  of 
classification.  The  procedure  in  this  case  is  pre- 
cisely like  that  followed  in  teaching  the  student  that 
the  mere  fact  that  a  whale  lives  in  water  is  no  war- 
rant for  calling  it  a  fish,  or  when  he  is  taught  that  a 
sea  anemone  is  an  animal  despite  the  fact  that  it 
lacks  the  power  of  locomotion,  which  he  first  be- 
lieved to  be  characteristic  of  all  animals.  Indeed, 
our  entire  education  is,  in  an  important  respect,  a 
process  of  correcting  our  first  groupings  and  classi- 
fications, which  in  many  instances,  are  based  upon 
similarities  that  are  superficial  and  unessential. 

By  a  similar  process  of  'automatic  assimilation', 
as  Sully  calls  it,  the  child  gets  his  first  groupings  of 
objects  or  actions  as  pretty  or  ugly,  as  true  or  false, 


THE   THOUGHT   PROCESSES  285 

as  fair  or  unfair,  good  or  bad,  and  so  on.  He  hears 
his  associates  name  certain  things  pretty  or  ugly, 
fair  or  unfair,  good  or  bad,  and  he  spontaneously 
applies  the  same  names  to  objects  and  actions  which 
resemble  in  some  respects  the  things  which  he  has 
heard  others  describe  by  these  words.  Of  course, 
the  child  makes  the  same  sort  of  mistakes  in  using 
the  more  abstract  terms  that  he  made  in  using  the 
more  concrete;  and  the  task  of  education  in  the 
latter  case,  is  the  same  as  in  the  former. 

Thus  far  we  have  spoken  only  of  generalization 
which  requires  little  effort,  which  consists  in  the 
simple  process  of  applying  the  same  name  to  objects 
which  resemble  one  another.  A  distinctly  higher 
stage  of  this  form  of  thinking  is  reached  when  a 
child  begins  consciously  to  compare  objects,  events, 
situations,  in  order  to  determine  their  likenesses  and 
differences,  and  when  he  begins  to  make  ascertained 
differences  and  likenesses  the  basis  of  his  classifica- 
tions. Moreover,  he  may  at  this  later  stage  under- 
take the  revision  of  his  earlier  general  meanings, 
he  inquires  into  their  grounds.  He  asks,  why  the 
giant  oak  and  the  patch  of  moss  on  its  trunk  are 
both  called  plants,  why  are  some  words  called  adjec- 
tives and  others  adverbs,  why  is  one  piece  of  con- 
duct called  patriotic  and  another  treasonable.  And 
all  through  life  he  is  interested  more  or  less  in  class- 
ifying, defining  more  sharply,  and  in  fixing  his  gen- 
eral meanings. 

The  answer  to  the  second  question  mentioned 
above,  namely,  what  is  the  character  of  the  mental 
processes  which  serve  as  the  vehicles  of  general- 


286  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

izations,  has  been  indicated  already  in  the  topic  — 
'Thoughts'  Vehicles',   (p.  266  ff.) 

The  Beginnings  of  Thought.  —  We  are  already  fa- 
miliar with  the  general  fact  that  even  in  the  earliest 
stages  of  an  individual's  mental  development,  the 
various  mental  activities  are  so  intricately  inter- 
woven, and  the  development  of  each  one  so  depends 
upon  and  involves  the  development  of  others,  that 
the  date  of  the  first  appearance  of  any  particular 
one  cannot  be  definitely  ascertained.  So  we  may  say 
of  the  thought  processes  in  particular  that  the  at- 
tempt to  isolate  them  from  the  totality  of  an  indi- 
vidual's early  experience  and  to  lay  one's  finger  on 
their  earliest  forms  will,  for  the  general  reason  just 
mentioned,  always  end  in  failure. 

But  in  order  to  give  any  account  of  mental  devel- 
opment at  all,  we  have  to  take  one  aspect  or  fea- 
ture of  the  developmental  process  at  a  time ;  we  have 
to  break  up  into  parts  what  is  in  reality  an  organic 
whole,  and  consider  the  evolution  of  the  various  in- 
dividual mental  functions  as  if  they  existed  in  isola- 
tion. So  our  inquiry  concerning  the  beginnings  of 
the  thought  processes  is  merely  an  effort,  first,  to 
ascertain  the  character  of  their  rudimentary  forms ; 
second,  to  determine  the  conditions  under  which  they 
become  distinguishable  features  of  consciousness. 

There  has  been  a  good  deal  of  discussion  of  the 
question  —  does  consciousness  always  involve  a 
thought  element?  Otherwise  stated,  is  there  such  a 
thing  as  a  'thoughtless'  mental  experience?  More 
concretely,  may  we  suppose  that  some  of  the  lower 


THE   THOUGHT   PROCESSES  287 

forms  of  animal  life,  say  a  caterpillar  or  an  oyster, 
experience  sensations  of  pressure  or  warmth  as 
bare,  disconnected  bits  of  consciousness,  as  pure 
sensations  ?  or  does  the  mere  existence  of  such  proc- 
esses involve  thought?  To  these  questions  the  most 
natural  answer  is  that  the  consciousness  of  many  of 
the  lower  animals,  and  that  also  of  the  higher  ani- 
mals, at  the  outset,  is  thoughtless.  For  example, 
it  is  highly  probable  that  at  first  a  baby's  mental 
life  consists  of  a  mass  of  vague,  undifferentiated, 
unrecognized,  and  unacknowledged  sensations  and 
feelings.  It  is  likely  that  bare  sensations  of  the  first 
baths,  the  first  tastes,  the  first  movements  of  arms 
and  legs  occur  without  involving  as  much  thought 
as  is  expressed  in  an  inarticulate  Ah !  or  Ouch !  At 
this  stage  of  development  the  baby's  mental  life,  so 
we  may  suppose,  consists  of  a  series  of  sensation, 
or  of  sensation  and  feeling,  complexes  which  appear 
one  by  one,  then  fade  away.  Each  one,  so  far  as  the 
experiencing  subject  is  concerned,  is  an  entirely  new 
experience;  it  awakens  no  memories  of  former 
states ;  when  it  dies,  it  leaves  absolutely  no  con- 
scious trace  of  its  having  been. 

Now,  let  us  suppose,  that  in  due  time,  a  trace  of 
these  first  sensations  and  feelings  lingers  in  our 
imaginary  baby's  mind,  and  that  the  occurrence  of 
later  pulses  of  sensation  and  feeling  is  accompanied 
by  a  dim  feeling  either  of  familiarity  or  of  strange- 
ness; then  the  consciousness  of  the  moment  would 
include  either  the  thought  'this  is  like',  or  'this  is 
diff"erent  from,  an  earlier  thing.'  Now  thought,  as 
a  distinctive  feature  of  consciousness,  begins  in  these 


288  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

first  dim,  faint  awarenesses  of  likeness  or  differ- 
ence; and  all  of  the  similarities  and  distinctions 
which  we  are  able  to  discover  in  our  later  life  trace 
back  to  these  two  different  ways  of  responding  to 
the  various  objects  of  our  babyhood  environment. 

The  student  will  understand,  of  course,  that  any  account  of 
the  earliest  forms  of  mental  experience  is,  in  large  part,  an 
imaginary  affair.  No  one  is  able  to  recall  his  first  sensa- 
tions, feelings,  thoughts;  and  our  attempt  to  picture  the 
mental  life  of  a  baby  professes  to  be  only  a  statement  of 
what  probably  occurs  in  these  early  hours  and  days  which 
are,  in  fact,  sealed  books  to  us  all. 

The  student  should  also  understand  that  statements  in 
regard  to  the  mental  life  of  the  lower  animals  are  speculative 
in  nature.  It  is,  however,  generally  agreed  that  it  is  highly 
improbable  that  the  lower  animals  image  or  think  about  their 
experiences;  and  it  is  doubtful  whether  their  sensory  and 
perceptional  processes  resemble  those  of  human  beings  as 
much  as  most  persons  nowadays  suppose. 


REFERENCES 

Angell:   Psychology,  Chs.  V,  X,  XI,  XII. 

James:  Principles  of  Psychology,  vol.  I,  Chs.  XII,  XIII,  vol. 

II,  Ch.  XXII. 
Judd:   Psychology,  Ch.  XI. 

Stout:  Manual  of  Psychology,  Book  IV,  Chs.  IV,  V. 
Sully:   The  Human  Mind,  1892,  vol.  I,  Ch.  XI. 
Titchener:  A  Text-Book  of  Psychology,  §§  138-145. 
Titchener:  Lectures  on  the  Experimental  Psychology  of  the 

Thought-Processes,  1909. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

THE  FEELINGS 

Meaning  of  the  Term  Feeling.  —  The  term  'feeling' 
is  used  in  the  language  of  everyday  life  with  a  great 
variety  of  meanings.  Thus,  to  quote  a  paragraph, 
with  slight  changes,  from  Titchener's  Primer  of 
Psychology :  ^ 

"(1)  Feeling  is  used  for  the  perception  of  touch.  We 
say  a  thing  'feels  rough'  or  'smooth',  'hard'  or  'soft'. 

(2)  It  is  used  for  certain  organic  sensations,  whether 
they  are  strongly  tinged  by  affection  [i.  e.,  whether  they  are 
agreeable  or  disagreeable]  or  not.  Thus  we  'feel  hungry' 
and  'feel  thirsty',  although  the  hunger  and  thirst  may  be 
neither   strongly  pleasant  nor  strongly  unpleasant. 

(3)  It  is  used  for  some  very  complicated  affective  proc- 
esses, for  emotions  and  moods.  Thus  we  'feel  angry'  or 
'feel  blue'.     Anger  is  an  emotion;  'the  blues'  is  a  mood." 

(4)  Feeling  is  also  used  as  the  equivalent  of  'think' 
or  'judge',  as  when  one  says,  "I  feel  that  so  and  so 
is  true  or  false,  wise  or  unwise,  good  or  bad,  etc." 

(5)  Again,  in  ordinary  speech,  'feeling'  means  an 
attitude  of  assent,  agreement,  hearty  concurrence, 
as  when  it  is  said  that  a  banquet  speaker  made  a 
'feeling  response'  to  a  given  toast.  So  also  in  works 
on  psychology,  'feeling'  is  used  in  a  great  variety  of 
ways.  Thus  some  psychologists,  e.  g.,  Titchener, 
mean  by  'feeling'  either  'a  simple  connection  of 
affection  (pleasantness  or  unpleasantness)  and  sen- 


^  Primer  of  Psychology,  1907,   p.   61. 
19  (289) 


290  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

satioii',  in  which  affection  is  the  predominant  factor; 
or  'the  affective  side  of  our  mental  life.'  Other 
psychologists  mean  by  'feeling'  any  mental  process ; 
feeling  and  consciousness  are  used  synonymously, 
e.  g.,  by  James  when  he  says,  in  his  chapter  on  The 
Emotions,  "the  feeling  [consciousness]  of  certain 
bodily  changes  as  they  occur  is  the  emotion."  Truly, 
as  Titchener  remarks,  "  'Feel'  and  'feeling'  seem  to 
be  psychological  maids  of  all  work;  they  can  do,  in 
the  sentence,  practically  anything  that  a  verb  and 
a  substantive  can  be  called  upon  to  do." 

In  our  own  present  use  of  the  term  'feeling'  we 
shall  mean  the  pleasantness  or  unpleasantness,  the 
agreeableness  or  disagreeableness,  which  run 
through,  and  give  tone,  color,  and  immediate  value 
to  our  mental  experiences.  For  example,  the  sight 
of  the  colors  of  the  rainbow,  the  sound  of  a  musical 
melody,  the  taste  of  certain  fruits,  the  odor  of  given 
flowers,  are  usually  accompanied  by  feelings  of 
pleasantness ;  while  muddy  colors,  grating,  rasping 
noises,  the  odor  of  decaying  animal  matter,  the  bit- 
ter taste  of  quinine,  are,  as  a  rule,  accompanied 
by  feelings  of  unpleasantness. 

The  student's  attention  is  called  to  two  further  points  in 
respect  to  the  meanings  of  the  terms  used  in  discussing  feel- 
ing: (1)  the  word  'pain'  has  two  meanings  in  books  on 
psychology.  Usually  it  means  a  sensation ;  but  occasionally 
it  is  used  synonymously  with  unpleasantness,  unpleasure- 
ableness,  disagreeableness,  and  as  a  convenient  substitute 
for  these  unwieldy  terms.  (2)  The  expression  'feeling-tone 
of  sensation'  refers,  in  this  text,  to  feeling  as  an  elementary 
psychical  process  which  accompanies  sensations. 


THE   FEELINGS  291 

The  foregoing  definition  of  feeling  implies  that 
our  mental  life  derives  its  immediate  value  and  in- 
terest from  its  affective  character.  Whether  or  not 
a  given  experience  shall  be  deemed  interesting  or 
valuable  depends  upon  whether  or  not  it  "touches 
the  feelings."  For  example,  the  sight  of  a  beautiful 
bank  of  flowers,  a  discord  in  music,  the  fragrance  of 
apple-blossoms,  the  foul  odors  of  bad  drainage, 
sweet  and  bitter  tastes,  ideas  of  good  or  ill  fortune, 
all  owe  whatever  of  value  they  may  have  for  our 
present  consciousness  to  the  fact  that  they  are  ac- 
companied by  feelings  of  pleasantness  or  unpleasant- 
ness. The  language  of  everyday  life  bears  witness  to 
the  fact  that  our  immediate  sense  of  the  value  of  an 
experience  originates  in  the  feelings.  Thus,  to  speak 
of  a  certain  person  as  apathetic  or  blase,  in  the 
presence  of  natural  scenery  which  ordinarily  fills 
others  with  the  keenest  delight ;  or  of  a  given  school 
boy  as  sated  with  school  work;  or  of  a  hardened 
criminal's  indifference  as  to  his  fate ;  of  the  growing 
recklessness  of  an  administrator  of  a  public  trust, 
is  another  way  of  saying  that  the  scenery,  the  school 
studies,  the  gallows,  the  ideas  of  public  service,  no 
longer  elicit  their  usual  feeling  responses.  If  a  sen- 
sation or  idea  is  accompanied  by  a  feeling,  it  has  a 
present  value  for  the  consciousness ;  if  it  is  not,  it 
has  none. 

The  Number  of  Kinds  of  Feeling.  —  The  question 
of  the  number  of  kinds  of  feeling  has  been  much  in 
debate  in  recent  years.  In  the  main,  the  discussion 
has   centered   about   'the   tridimensional   theory   of 


292 


ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 


feeling,'  proposed  by  the  German  psychologist, 
Wundt ;  and  it  will  be  sufficient  for  our  present  pur- 
t.  poses  to  indicate,  (1)  the  chief 
features  of  that  theory,  (2) 
the  principal  arguments  that 
have  been  urged  against  it. 

Wundt  teaches  that  there  are 
in  all  six  distinct  classes  of  feel- 
ing, namely,  pleasantness  and 
unpleasantness,  excitement  and 
depression,  tension  and  relaxa- 
tion ;  also  that  these  six  elemen- 
tary forms  or  groups  of  feeling 
may  be  arranged  in  pairs  of  op- 
posites,  forming  three  series, 
and  that  each  series  comprises 
a  vast  number  of  distinct  feel- 
ing experiences.  The  accompanying  diagram  (Fig. 
34)  represents  the  relation  in  which  Wundt's  six 
groups  of  feelings  stand  to  their  opposites. 

A  further  characteristic  of  Wundt's  theory  is 
that  any  actual  feeling  may  belong  to  all  three 
series,  or  it  may  belong  to  only  two,  or  even  to  only 
one.  For  example,  a  noise,  say  that  of  a  fire-engine 
dashing  along  the  street,  may  be  accompanied,  in  a 
given  instance,  by  a  certain  pleasantness  or  unpleas- 
antness, by  a  more  or  less  marked  feeling  of  strain 
or  relaxation,  and  also  by  a  feeling  of  either  excite- 
ment or  depression.  Another  sound,  say  the  tones 
of  a  distant  bell,  may  awaken,  in  a  given  case,  feel- 
ings either  of  pleasantness  or  unpleasantness  and  of 
either  tension  or  relaxation,  but  nothing  that  could 


r.  unp.  d. 

Fig.  34.  Diagram 
representing  Wundt's 
three  dimensions  of 
feeling. 


THE   FEELINGS  293 

be  described  as  excitement  or  depression.  In  still 
a  third  instance,  we  may  suppose  that  the  feeling 
experienced,  that  aroused  by  a  musical  chord,  e.  g., 
belongs  only  to  the  pleasantness  —  unpleasantness 
series ;  the  experience  is  pleasant  or  unpleasant,  but 
it  contains  no  traces  of  excitement  or  depression,  of 
strain  or  relaxation. 

Now  it  should  be  said  at  once  that  nearly  all  psy- 
chologists agree  in  calling  pleasantness  and  unpleas- 
antness feelings  (or  affections  or  affective  expe- 
riences), and  that  the  discussion  concerning  the 
number  of  kinds  of  feeling  centers  chiefly  about  the 
question — should  the  consciousnesses  called  'strain', 
'relaxation',  'excitement',  'depression',  be  classed  as 
feelings  or  as  sensations  ?  As  we  have  seen  already 
in  our  outline  of  his  tridimensional  theory,  Wundt 
classes  them  among  the  feelings,  alongside  pleasant- 
ness and  unpleasantness.  Titchener,  on  the  other 
hand,  after  a  careful  examination  of  Wundt's  teach- 
ing, reaches  the  conclusion  that  the  groups  of  expe- 
riences which  Wundt  and  others  call  feelings  of 
excitement  and  depression,  and  feelings  of  strain 
and  relaxation  are  really  sensations  from  the 
muscles,  tendons,  joints,  skin,  organs  of  circulation 
and  respiration,  etc.,  which  are  at  times  closely 
blended  with  the  feelings  of  pleasantness  and  un- 
pleasantness.^ For  example,  if  one  is  expecting  a 
present  on  a  certain  mail  delivery,  one  awaits  the 
postman's  arrival  with  pleasure,  but  alongside  the 
pleasure  there  may  exist,  as  a  result  of  changes  in 


^Elementary  Psych,    of  Feeling   and  Attention.      Lecture    IV,    p. 
125  f£. 


294  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

breathing,  heartbeat,  the  excitation  or  inhibition  of 
bodily  movements  and  the  like,  sensations  of  strain 
and  possibly  of  excitement.  When  the  present  ar- 
rives, the  strain  may  give  way  to  relaxation ;  the 
excitement,  to  quiet  and  calm.  In  all  such  cases,  the 
experiences  of  strain,  excitement,  and  their  oppo- 
sites,  consist  of  sensations,  chiefly  organic  in  nature. 
As  Titchener  remarks  in  the  Lecture  cited  above, 
"organic  sensations  are  responsible  for  the  [Wundt's] 
dimensions  of  excitement-depression,  and  tension- 
relaxation." 

In  the  opinion  of  the  present  writer,  the  advantage  in  this 
discussion  is  on  the  side  of  Titchener  and  those  who  hold 
with  him  that  there  are  only  two  classes  or  kinds  of  feeling, 
namely,  pleasantness  and  unpleasantness,  and  that  all  other 
differences,  excepting  those  of  intensity  and  duration,  in  our 
feeling  experiences,  are  due  to  their  sensational,  imaginal, 
and  ideational  accompaniments.  However,  as  was  said  above, 
the  question  is  still  in  debate,  and  the  final  solution  will  de- 
pend upon  what  precisely  we  are  to  mean  by  a  'feeling',  upon 
what,  as  Titchener  says,  are  the  criteria  of  feeling. 

The  question  of  the  number  of  kinds  of  feeling  should  be 
clearly  distinguished  from  the  question  of  the  number  of 
kinds  of  pleasantness  and  unpleasantness.  Certain  authors 
teach  that  there  are  not  only  more  than  two  kinds  of  feel- 
ings, but  that  there  are  also  many  kinds  each  of  pleasantness 
and  unpleasantness.  Ladd,  for  example,  contends  that  the 
pleasures  of  sense  ai-e,  as  feelings,  different  from  the  more 
elevated  intellectual,  jesthetical  and  ethical  pleasures  —  even 
though  the  two  classes  of  pleasures  be  graded  to  the  samp 
degree  of  intensity.  Now  it  is  of  course  true  that  the  total 
experiences,  such  as  eating  freely  of  a  favorite  fruit  and  of 
turning  fondly  through  the  pages  of  one's  favorite  author, 
are  very  different;  but  the  difference  is  not  due  to  the  dif- 
ference in  the  kind  of  feeling  present  in  the  two  experiences, 


THE   FEELINGS  295 

but  rather  to  the  difference  in  the  accompanying  sensations, 
images,  and  ideas. 

The  Mental  Conditions  of  the  Feelings.  —  Broadly 
stated,  the  view  here  advanced  concerning  the 
mental  conditions  of  the  feelings  is  that  they  are 
dependent  upon  certain  of  the  attributes  (quality, 
intensity,  and  duration)  of  the  sensations  and  the 
relations  which  arise  among  these  attributes.  In 
other  words,  the  feelings  of  pleasantness  and  un- 
pleasantness are  'functions',  in  the  mathematical 
sense  of  that  term,  of  sensation  attributes  and  their 
relations.  Furthermore,  some  feelings  are  depend- 
ent chiefly  upon  certain  attributes  of  the  special 
sensations  (sight,  sound,  taste,  smell,  etc.)  ;  some 
mainly  upon  the  attributes  of  certain  organic  sen- 
sations (tension,  strain,  hunger,  thirst,  etc.)  ;  and 
some,  so  far  as  rough  observation  can  determine, 
upon  sensations  belonging  to  both  these  groups. 
Let  us  consider  first: — 

Feeling  and  the  Quality  of  the  Special  Sensations. — 
Many  of  the  feelings  of  our  ordinary  daily  expe- 
rience depend  primarily  upon  the  quality  of  the 
special  sensations.  Thus  the  pleasantness  of  the 
taste  of  a  favorite  fruit,  of  the  odor  of  a  field  of 
blossoming  clover,  of  the  sight  of  a  bush  full  of 
roses,  of  musical  chords,  of  the  touch  of  velvet,  de- 
pends in  each  case  primarily  upon  the  quality  of 
the  accompanying  sensation ;  likewise,  the  unpleas- 
antness of  the  bitter  of  quinine,  of  the  odor  of  a 
carrion,  of  muddy  colors,  of  discords,  depends 
chiefly  upon  the  quality  of  the  sensations  excited. 


296  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

The  reasons  for  believing  that,  in  many  instances, 
the  feelings  depend  primarily  upon  the  quality  of 
the  accompanying  sensations  are,  first,  the  fact  that 
they  usually  appear  in  consciousness  simultaneously 
with  sensations  and  seem  to  be  inseparably  con- 
nected with  them;  and,  second,  many  sensations 
possess  a  characteristic  feeling-tone,  independently 
of  their  degree  of  intensity,  their  duration,  and  their 
relations  to  other  sensations.  Thus,  to  most  per- 
sons, the  odor  of  a  favorite  perfume  is  pleasant,  a 
bitter  taste  is  unpleasant,  irrespective  of  their  other 
properties  or  relations.  The  feeling  in  each  case 
is  dependent  mainly  upon  the  quality  of  the  sensa- 
tion. 

Feeling  and  the  Organic  Sensations.  —  A  second 
great  group  of  feelings  are  dependent  mainly  upon 
the  organic  sensations,  particularly  the  kinaesthetic 
sensations  and  sensations  originating  in  changes  in 
the  organs  of  respiration,  circulation,  and  digestion. 

Feeling  and  Conation.  —  Conspicuous  in  this 
group  are  those  feelings  which  arise  in  connection 
with  our  'conative  tendencies',  as  they  are  called, 
namely,  our  instincts,  our  inborn  impulses,  our  na- 
tive or  acquired  cravings,  longings,  yearnings,  our 
strivings,  efforts,  desires,  wishes,  volitions,  and  the 
like.  But  before  stating  more  explicitly  how  the 
conative  tendencies  derive  their  characteristic  feel- 
ing-tone from  the  organic  sensations,  let  us  consider 
for  a  little  while  the  more  obvious  relations  of  the 
feelings  to  these  tendencies. 

In  respect  to  this  relationship.  Stout  writes: 
"Whatever  conditions  further  and  favor  conation  in 


THE   FEELINGS  297 

the  attainment  of  its  end,  yield  pleasure.  What- 
ever conditions  obstruct  conation  in  the  attainment 
of  its  end,  are  sources  of  displeasure."  '  The  same 
truth  is  expressed  by  Ladd,  as  follows :  "The  tone 
of  our  feeling  (whether  pleasurable  or  painful) 
depends  largely  ....  upon  the  degree  of 
smoothly  running  flow,  or  interruptions  and  shocks, 
to  the  current  of  consciousness ;"  -  and  by  Judd  in 
the  following  statement:  "So  long  as  the  various 
tendencies  toward  action  which  are  present  at  a 
given  moment  contribute  favorably  to  mutual  prog- 
ress, the  feeling-tone  of  experience  will  be  agree- 
able; as  soon  as  active  tendencies  conflict,  they  will 
be  accompanied  by  a  disagreeable  feeling."  ^ 

Let  us  next  note  a  few  familiar  instances  of  the 
dependence  of  the  feelings  upon  whatever  condi- 
tions obstruct  and  hinder  or  favor  and  further  the 
conative  processes.  First,  we  may  glance  at  the 
field  of  instinctive  behavior. 

(1)  Feeling  and  instinctive  tendencies.  —  Our 
native  impulses  are  fertile  sources  of  pleasantness 
and  unpleasantness.  Pleasure  accompanies  the  free, 
unhampered  functioning  of  our  instinctive  tenden- 
cies ;  whereas,  if  they  are  crossed,  delayed,  or  denied 
free  action  we  feel  displeasure.  One  finds  the  most 
striking  illustrations  of  this  truth  in  the  behavior 
of  little  children.  The  child's  impulse  to  play,  to  be 
active  all  his  waking  hours,  his  curiosity  to  see  and 
hear  and  touch  and  handle  all  new  things,  when  free 


lA  Manual  of  Psychology,  1899,  234. 

^Psychology:  Descriptive  and  Explanatory,  p.   199   f. 

3  Psychology,  p.  196  f. 


298  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

and  unrestrained,  are  clearly  the  source  of  great 
joy.  On  the  other  hand,  hindrances  to  his  activity, 
restraint  or  interference  with  his  native  impulses, 
produce  unmistakable  signs  of  displeasure;  and 
throughout  life  our  inborn  tendencies,  unless  they 
have  been  uprooted  or  transformed,  remain  impor- 
tant conditions  of  our  joys  and  sorrows.  The  ego- 
istic instincts,  the  expressive  instincts,  the  instincts 
of  pugnacity  and  mastery,  sensational  and  intellect- 
ual curiosity,  imitativeness  and  emulation,  acquisi- 
tiveness, the  social  and  parental  instincts,  each  in 
their  turn  and  in  their  free  play,  or  in  their  con- 
flicts and  inhibitions,  give  the  individual  life  much 
of  whatever  tone  and  color  and  value  it  may  possess. 

(2)  Feeling  and  sense-craving.  —  The  relation  of 
feeling  to  sense-craving  is  similar  to  its  relation  to 
the  instincts.  The  satisfaction  of  a  craving,  whether 
natural,  as  for  food  in  hunger,  or  artificial,  as  for 
certain  kinds  of  stimulants,  is  accompanied  by  pleas- 
ure, while  its  frustration  causes  displeasure.  The 
food  or  the  stimulant  in  itself  and  apart  from  the 
craving  may  not  be  pleasant ;  it  owes  this  quality  to 
the  fact  that  it  satisfies  a  desire,  as  is  evident  when 
one  remembers  that  in  moderate  hunger  the  taste 
of  a  given  food  may  give  keen  pleasure,  while  in 
satiety  the  same  food  may  be  nauseating. 

(3)  Feeling  and  active  attention. — Feeling  stands 
in  a  close  relation  to  active,  or  voluntary,  attention. 
The  'will'  to  attend  to  a  given  object  or  idea,  if  suc- 
cessful, gives  pleasure;  if  unsuccessful,  if  it  is  ob- 
structed or  interfered  with  in  any  way,  we  feel  dis- 
pleasure.    Illustrations  from  our  everyday  life  will 


THE   FEELINGS  299 

readily  occur  to  the  student.  Thus  when  one  is  try- 
ing to  solve  a  knotty  problem  in  mathematics,  or  is 
racking  his  brain  in  an  effort  to  recall  a  forgotten 
law  or  principle,  or  is  striving  to  get  the  meaning 
of  a  difficult  paragraph,  but,  cannot  attend  effect- 
ively to  his  task  because  of  talking  and  laughing 
in  an  adjoining  room,  one  experiences  the  displeas- 
ure of  disturbed  or  distracted  attention. 

(4)  Success  and  defeat  as  conditions  of  feeling. — 
It  is  one  of  the  most  familiar  of  our  experiences  that 
success  in  our  undertakings  gives  pleasure  and  that 
defeat  brings  pain.  Illustration  of  this  fact  would 
seem  unnecessary,  since  the  whole  round  of  life, 
from  the  eager  games  and  contests  of  childhood  and 
youth  to  the  most  serious  concerns  of  mature  life, 
is  run  through  and  through  with  the  joys  of  success 
and  the  anguish  of  defeat.  Likewise,  whatever  con- 
ditions favor  the  attainment  of  a  desired  object  or 
aim  are  pleasant;  those  which  thwart  its  attain- 
ment, unpleasant.  Hence,  e.  g.,  the  joy  in  the  full 
purse  and  its  power  to  provide  the  summer  outing, 
or  to  purchase  the  coveted  set  of  books,  or  the  col- 
lection of  rare  pictures ;  hence  the  pangs  of  poverty 
and  the  inability  to  obtain  a  fair  portion  of  this 
world's  goods. 

Now  the  point  which  we  wish  to  emphasize  in 
respect  to  all  these  experiences  is  that  the  feelings 
which  are  ordinarily  attributed  to  the  furtherance 
or  the  hindrance  of  our  conative  tendencies  really 
belong  to,  and  are  immediately  dependent  upon,  the 
accompanying  organic  sensations,  particularly  the 
kinsesthetic    sensations    of   tension,    strain,    excite- 


300  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

merit  and  certain  sensations,  hard  to  name  or  de- 
scribe, which  accompany  the  free,  easy,  normal 
functioning  of  the  various  bodily  organs.  Stated 
otherwise,  the  feelings  of  pleasantness  or  unpleas- 
antness that  accompany  the  furtherance  or  hind- 
rance of  the  conative  tendencies  depend  upon  the 
organic  sensations  of  tension,  strain,  effort,  excite- 
ment, and  their  opposites  which,  so  far,  psychology 
has  not  adequately  described. 

What  is  known  as  the  'pains  of  distraction'  affords  a  good 
illustration  of  the  feelings  that,  in  a  sense,  are  due  to  the 
obstruction  of  conative  tendencies  but  which  can  be  ade- 
quately explained  only  by  pointing  to  their  dependence  upon 
a  complex  of  organic  sensations.  Distraction  presupposes  a 
state  of  pre-occupation,  and  this  in  turn  presupposes  a  mus- 
cular set  or  attitude  appropriate  to  the  dominant  mental 
trend.  In  looking  or  listening  intently,  in  trying  to  recall 
something  once  known  but  now  forgotten,  in  weighing  the 
pros  and  cons  in  respect  to  a  proposed  course  of  action; 
briefly,  in  any  case  of  attentive  consideration,  one  assumes 
either  from  habit  or  instinctively  a  particular  bodily  attitude 
which  sustains,  so  to  say,  the  purposes  or  interests  of  the 
moment.  Now  in  accordance  with  the  principle  already 
stated,  anything  that  breaks  across  or  disturbs  this  bodily 
set,  this  temporary  adjustment  of  the  organism  to  a  par- 
ticular task,  excites  disagreeable  feelings.  On  the  other 
hand,  whatever  favors  and  furthers  it  produces  pleasureable 
feelings. 

Moods:  Pains.  Moreover,  we  find  in  the  organic 
sensations  as  a  group  and  as  individual  processes 
the  conditions  of  the  feeling-tone  of  certain  other 
familiar  experiences.  What  we  ordinarily  call  our 
'mood'  or  'temper'  whether  of  cheerfulness  and  gen- 
iality or  of  gloominess,  malaise,  sullenness,  owes  its 


THE  FEELINGS  301 

distinctive  character  in  large  part  to  the  state  of 
our  bodily  organs  and  the  group  of  sensations  orig- 
inating therein.  Besides  these  pervasive  feelings, 
due  to  the  fused  total  mass  of  organic  sensations  of 
a  given  period,  there  are  others  more  clearly  marked 
and  more  insistent  that  are  dependent  definitely 
and  directly  upon  particular  organic  sensations 
which  stand  out  from  the  existing  total  sensation 
complex.  For  example,  the  disagreeableness  of 
nausea,  hunger,  thirst,  excessive  heart  throb,  dis- 
turbed respiration,  and  colic  pains  are  striking  in- 
stances of  the  intimacy  of  the  relationship  of  the 
feelings  to  particular  organic  sensations.  Feelings 
of  pleasantness  are  also  definitely  correlated  with 
certain  organic  sensations  originating  in  the  free, 
normal  functioning  of  the  various  bodily  organs. 

Some  Feelings  dependent  on  both  the  Special  and 
the  Organic  Sensations.  —  We  have  seen  in  the  pre- 
ceding paragraphs  that  some  of  our  feeling  expe- 
riences are  dependent  chiefly  upon  the  quality  of  the 
special  sensations  and  that  still  larger  portions  are 
conditioned  mainly  by  the  organic  sensations.  We 
may  turn  next  to  those  feelings  that  are  dependent 
upon  both  these  sensation  groups. 

It  will  help  us  to  understand  the  two-fold  char- 
acter of  the  conditions  of  this  group  of  feelings  to 
recall,  first,  that  all  effective  sensory  impulses,  be- 
sides exciting  definite  portions  of  the  cerebral  cor- 
tex, excite  in  addition  thereto  larger  or  smaller  sec- 
tions of  the  brain  and  spinal  cord,  and  through  these 
the  outlying  bodily  organs.    "There  is  in  such  cases', 


302  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

Stout  writes,  'a  diffused  excitement  of  the  nervous 
system  ....  superadded  to  that  special  excite- 
ment which  is  immediately  correlated  with  the  ex- 
istence of  the  sensation."  Now  this  'diffused  excite- 
ment' of  the  nervous  system  necessarily  involves,  we 
have  said,  a  greater  or  less  excitement  of  the  bodily 
organs ;  this  in  turn  involves  a  wave  of  sensory  im- 
pulses flowing  backward  to  the  brain  and  the  arousal 
of  a  group  of  organic  sensations  with  their  own 
special  feeling  tones.  To  quote  McDougall,  "The 
feeling  excited  by  an  impression  made  on  one  of  the 
higher  senses  is  often  due  in  part  to  reflex  changes 
produced  in  the  viscera,  which  in  turn  excite  organic 
sensations  with  well  marked  feeling-tone."  ^  Briefly, 
a  sensory  impulse  that  is  strong  enough  to  excite  a 
special  sensation,  having  a  clearly  marked  feeling- 
tone,  will  also  excite,  in  the  manner  described  above, 
a  group  of  organic  sensations  with  their  character- 
istic feeling  accompaniments;  and  the  resulting 
feeling,  whether  of  pleasantness  or  unpleasantness, 
is  conditioned  by  these  two  classes  of  sensations.  To 
illustrate:  it  is  a  matter  of  everyday  observation 
that  the  feelings  accompanying  given  color  sensa- 
tions, musical  tones,  noises,  tastes,  odors,  touch- 
blends  are  compounds  of  feelings  immediately  re- 
lated to  the  sensations  themselves  and  of  feelings 
due  to  the  attendant  bodily  commotion.  The  dis- 
agreeableness  of  a  grating  noise,  or  of  a  foul  odor, 
or  of  muddy  colors,  includes  besides  the  feeling 
characteristic  of  the  sensation  itself  also  a  mass  of 
feeling  from  the  organic  sensations  that  are  ex- 


1  Physiological  Psychology,  1899,  p.   80. 


THE   FEELINGS  303 

cited  therewith.  So  also  the  pleasantness  of  bright 
colors,  musical  tones,  and  of  agreeable  tastes  or 
odors,  is  oftentimes  strengthened  and  corroborated 
by  a  wave  of  pleasant  feeling  from  concomitant 
bodily  sensations. 

Feeling  in  Relation  to  the  Intensity  and  Duration 
of  Sensations. — It  remains  to  state  briefly  the  rela- 
tion of  feeling  to  the  intensity  and  duration  of  sen- 
sations. 

Intensity.  —  The  general  statement  of  the  relation 
of  the  intensity  of  sensations  to  the  feelings  is  as 
follows:  (1)  Many  sensations  at  a  low  degree  of 
intensity  have  no  accompaniment  of  feeling;  they 
are  said  to  be  neutral;  (2)  pleasantness  or  unpleas- 
antness attaches  to  all  sensations  when  their  intens- 
ity is  increased;  (3)  some  sensations  are  either 
pleasant  or  unpleasant  at  all  degrees  of  intensity; 
(4)  most  sensations  become  unpleasant  at  a  high 
degree  of  intensity;  and  (5)  the  initial  feeling-tone 
of  some  sensations  increases  with  the  increase  in 
intensity  of  the  sensation  up  to  a  determinable  point 
when  the  feeling,  if  initially  pleasant,  becomes  un- 
pleasant; if  originally  unpleasant,  it  either  remains 
stationary,  or  gives  way  to  indifference. 

Duration.  —  The  experience  of  everyday  life 
teaches  that  the  feeling-tone  of  sensations  depends 
in  part  upon  their  temporal  properties,  i.  e.,  whether 
they  are  brief  or  prolonged,  continuous  or  periodic, 
rhythmical  or  fitful.  Generally  speaking,  the  pro- 
longation of  a  sensation  results  in  dulling  the  ac- 
companying feeling.  This  is  true  whether  the  sen- 
sation is  weak  or  intense,  pleasant  or  unpleasant. 
Thus  the  pleasure  one  derives  from  a  given  com- 


304  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

bination  of  colors,  or  a  popular  melody,  or  a  new 
product  of  the  culinary  art,  fades,  or  even,  in  some 
cases,  gives  way  to  displeasure,  if  the  conditions 
require  gazing  at  the  colors  continually,  or  if  the 
melody  is  constantly  dinned  in  our  ears,  or  when 
the  new  discovery  in  the  culinary  department  makes 
its  appeal  too  persistently.  The  same  principle 
holds  of  disagreeable  sensations.  The  odors  of  the 
dissecting  room,  the  ugliness  of  a  wall  paper,  the 
nerve-racking  noises  of  a  great  city,  cease,  after  a 
time,  to  affect  us  disagreeably;  or  even,  in  some 
cases,  owing  to  a  process  of  accommodation,  sensa- 
tions which  are  originally  disagreeable  not  infre- 
quently become  pleasant.  The  best  illustrations  of 
this  transformation  are  seen  in  the  acquired  taste 
for  olives,  for  tobacco,  and  for  bitter  drinks.  Thus 
we  find  two  sets  of  results  due  to  the  prolonged  or 
frequently  repeated  stimulation  of  the  sense-organs ; 
(1)  the  lowering  of  the  intensity  of  the  original 
feeling  which  the  stimulus  excites,  due  possibly  to 
the  lowered  functional  activity  of  the  sense-organs 
involved;  (2)  a  change  in  the  quality  of  the  feeling- 
tone  of  a  sensation  due  to  a  process  of  accommoda- 
tion in  the  sense-organs. 

The  Neural  Correlates  of  the  Feelings.  —  We  have 
assumed  throughout  our  study  of  the  mental  life 
that  every  mental  process  is  correlated  with  a  proc- 
ess in  the  nervous  system,  that  'every  psychosis  has 
its  neurosis',  to  quote  Huxley's  phrase  once  more. 
The  feelings  of  pleasantness  and  unpleasantness  are 
not  excepted  in  this  general  statement,  and  we  have 
now  to  ask,  what  changes  in  the  nervous  system 


THE   FEELINGS  305 

accompany  these  states.  It  must  be  said  at  once 
that  when  we  ask  for  precise  information  concern- 
ing the  neural  correlates  of  pleasantness  and  un- 
pleasantness, when  we  ask  how  the  neural  conditions 
of  the  one  differ  from  those  of  the  other,  we  get  no 
completely  satisfactory  answer.  Our  positive  knowl- 
edge is  extremely  meagre,  and  theories  differ  widely. 
Our  present  study  will  be  limited  to  a  review  of  the 
latter. 

It  was  maintained  in  the  preceding  paragraphs, 
first,  that  the  feelings  are  dependent  upon  the 
quality  of  the  special  and  the  organic  sensations; 
second,  that  the  feelings  are  conditioned  partly  by 
the  intensity  of  the  concomitant  sensations ;  and 
third,  that  the  feelings  depend  in  part  upon  the  tem- 
poral properties  of  sensations.  Now  the  question 
in  all  these  cases  is :  what  changes  in  the  nervous 
system  are  correlated  with  a  particular  sensation 
quality  or  intensity  or  duration  which  gives  it  its 
characteristic  feeling  accompaniment? 

It  seems  very  natural  to  say  in  answer  to  this 
question,  first,  that  since  the  quality,  intensity,  and 
duration  of  sensations  are  due  in  the  main  to  the 
character,  intensity,  and  duration  of  the  sensory 
stimuli,  the  latter  are  likewise  determinants  of  the 
character  of  the  concomitant  feelings ;  second,  that 
any  sensory  stimulus  that  affects  us  pleasantly  is 
physically  beneficial,  and  one  that  affects  us  unpleas- 
antly is  physically  injurious.  And,  speaking  very 
generally,  we  do  find  that  agreeable  stimuli  pro- 
mote our  physical  well-being,  and  that  disagreeable 
ones  are  harmful.     But  there  are  many  exceptions 

20 


306  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

to  this  general  statement:  as  Angell  observes, 
'neither  agreeableness  nor  disagreeableness  is  un- 
ambiguously prophetic',  i.  e.,  many  pleasant  stimuli 
are  followed  by  harmful  results,  and  many  that  are 
unpleasant,  by  results  that  are  beneficial.  In  illus- 
tration of  this  familiar  fact.  Stout  writes : 

"Sugar  of  lead  has  a  sweet  taste,  which  is  pleasing  at  the 
moment;  this  pleasing  taste  may  in  itself  be  favorable  to 
vital  activity,  although  the  substance  which  occasions  it, 
when  introduced  into  the  blood,  acts  as  a  deadly  poison. 
Similarly,  a  bitter  drug  which  is  disagreeable  to  the  taste, 
may  have  a  beneficial  medicinal  effect.  The  beneficial  effect 
is  not  due  to  the  disagreeable  bitterness,  but  to  subsequent 
effects  entirely  disconnected  with  the  original  experience." ' 

And  yet,  Stout  seems  to  say,  in  the  passage  just 
quoted,  that  pleasantness  and  unpleasantness,  as  a 
rule,  are  reliable  signs  of  the  beneficial  or  harmful 
character  of  physical  stimuli.  And  this  is  the  teach- 
ing of  most  students  of  the  relation  of  pleasure  and 
pain  to  physical  well-being.  But  even  so,  this  is 
only  one  step  toward  a  statement  of  the  neural  con- 
ditions of  pleasantness  and  unpleasantness. 

Feelings  Dependent  upon  Anabolic  and  Katabolic 
Processes. — Among  the  several  theories  of  these 
conditions  that  have  been  proposed  the  most  widely 
favored  one  attributes  pleasantness  to  processes  of 
repair  and  upbuilding  in  the  sense-organs  and  ner- 
vous system,  and  unpleasantness  to  breaking  down 
processes.  According  to  this  view,  stimuli  of  a  given 
kind   and   intensity   and   duration   produce   in   the 


Manual  of  Psychology,  1809,  p.  229  f. 


THE   FEELINGS  307 

nerve  tissues  physical  and  chemical  changes  which, 
in  their  general  character,  are  destructive,  and 
which  occasion  a  feeling  of  unpleasantness,  while 
stimuli  of  another  kind  and  intensity  give  rise  to 
constructive  processes  and  the  resulting  feeling  of 
pleasantness. 

In  this  theory  we  have  a  plausible  suggestion  as 
to  the  neural  conditions  of  many  of  the  feelings; 
but  the  student  should  remember  that  it  is  at  best 
only  a  guess,  and  moreover,  that  the  details  of  the 
theory  are  far  from  being  complete.  Thus  we  do 
not  know  precisely  luhat  these  changes  are,  we  do 
not  know  where  they  occur,  nor  do  we  know  how 
their  effects  are  transmitted  to  the  cortical  centers. 
Again,  we  do  not  know  how  they  differ  in  different 
persons,  why  the  same  object  arouses  different  feel- 
ings in  different  individuals;  or  why,  precisely,  a 
sensory  experience  that,  at  one  time,  thrills  us  with 
the  keenest  pleasure,  at  another,  fills  us  with  disgust. 
Popularly  we  attribute  such  differences  to  individual 
idiosyncrasies,  to  differences  in  physical  constitu- 
tion, to  passing  changes  in  physical  tone,  or  to  habit 
and  early  associations ;  but  we  cannot  tell  in  detail 
wherein  the  physical  grounds  of  the  differences  lie. 

Feelings  Dependent  upon  Favoring-Obstructing 
Nerve  Processes.  —  The  theory  just  mentioned,  that 
pleasant  feelings  are  dependent  upon  beneficial,  or 
anabolic,  processes  in  the  nerve  structures  and  that 
unpleasant  feelings  are  dependent  upon  destructive, 
katabolic,  processes  —  the  harmful-beneficial  theory 
of  feeling,  it  may  be  called  —  seems  to  account 
roughly   for  a  large  portion  of  our  feeling  expe- 


308  ELEMENTS   OF  PSYCHOLOGY 

riences,  but  not  for  all.  It  fails  conspicuously  as  an 
explanation  of  those  feelings  that  accompany  our 
conative  tendencies.  In  respect  to  this  relationship 
we  have  said  that  any  condition  or  situation  which 
favors  the  conative  processes  is  agreeable  and  that 
whatever  obstructs  or  hinders  them  is  disagreeable. 
It  was  maintained,  further,  that  feelings  of  unpleas- 
antness are  intimately  related  to  the  bodily  sensa- 
tions of  strain,  stress,  effort,  and  that  pleasurable 
feelings  depend  upon  sensations  of  freedom,  ease, 
lightness.  But  there  is  little  or  no  reason  for  think- 
ing that  tension  and  effort  are  symptomatic  of  pre- 
dominantly destructive  processes  in  the  nerve  tis- 
sues or  that  freedom  and  ease  indicate  the  presence 
of  constructive,  upbuilding  processes.  Pleasantness, 
in  these  cases,  is  not  uniformly  correlated  with  con- 
structive processes  in  the  nerve  tissues,  nor  unpleas- 
antness with  destructive  ones.  We  must  look  else- 
where for  the  neural  conditions  of  the  hindrance- 
furtherance  feelings.  To  the  present  writer  it 
seems  plausible  to  suppose  that  in  these  experiences 
incoming  nervous  impulses  which  favor  and  cor- 
roborate those  already  in  existence  cause  pleasure, 
and  that  when  the  existent  nervous  tendencies  are 
hindered  or  obstructed  by  incoming  currents  we  feel 
displeasure.  For  example,  it  does  not  seem  fanciful 
to  suppose  that  the  disagreeableness  of  distracting 
noises,  say  when  one  is  trying  to  compare  two  neigh- 
boring notes  on  the  musical  scale,  is  correlated  with 
collisions  or  cross-currents  of  the  nervous  impulses 
from  the  several  sets  of  stimuli.  Or  we  may  liken 
the  neural  disturbance  correlated  with  unpleasant- 


THE   FEELINGS  309 

nesses  of  this  kind  to  the  effect  produced  when  one 
stream  flows  into  and  crosses  another;  or  again  to 
the  commotion  caused  when  two  bodies,  moving  in 
different  directions,  collide.  Following  the  analogy 
of  moving  bodies,  we  may  liken  the  process  in  the 
nervous  system  which  underlies  pleasantness  to  that 
found  when  the  effect  of  one  moving  body  is  to  ac- 
celerate the  motion  of  another ;  and  that  which  con- 
ditions unpleasantness,  to  the  obstruction  of  the 
course  of  a  moving  body.  In  brief,  anything  that 
facilitates  the  action  of  existing  nerve  processes 
gives  pleasure,  and  blocking  or  crossing  them  causes 
displeasure. 

To  summarize:  in  the  preceding  paragraphs  we 
have  maintained,  first,  that  there  are  two  and  only 
two  qualities  of  feeling  —  pleasantness  and  unpleas- 
antness; second,  that  the  feelings  are  conditioned 
chiefly  by  the  quality  of  the  sensations,  special  and 
organic ;  third,  that  the  neural  basis  of  feeling  con- 
sists of  either  metabolic  or  favoring-obstructing 
processes  in  the  nerve  tissues. 

Feeling  and  Habit. '  —  It  is  often  remarked  that 
custom  dulls  feeling.  Thus,  persons  dwelling  in  the 
midst  of  beautiful  natural  scenery  grow  indifferent 
to  its  charms.  The  pleasureable  interest  one  has  in 
a  new  city  or  country,  in  listening  to  new  music,  or 
in  looking  at  a  new  collection  of  pictures;  the  joy 
one  finds  in  travel  in  a  foreign  land,  the  child's  de- 


'  The  relation  of  what  is  somewhat  loosely  called  'habit' 
or  'custom'  to  our  feeling-life  is  varied  and  complex,  and  any 
description  of  this  relationship  which  one  may  give,  while  it 
may  apply  in  a  given  situation,  is  subject  to  modification 
when  the  situation  changes. 


810  ELEMENTS   OP   PSYCHOLOGY 

light  ill  hia  new  toys,  in  strange  things,  in  orna- 
ments, all  tend  through  custom  to  fade  away. 

In  like  manner,  we  become  insensible,  through 
dint  of  repetition,  to  characteristics  of  our  environ- 
ment which  at  first  are  harsh  and  ugly.  Disagree- 
able aspects  of  our  trade,  business,  or  profession, 
ugly  features  in  our  daily  surroundings,  in  time  lose 
their  power  to  affect  us  unpleasantly.  The  classical 
illustration  of  the  blunting  of  the  feelings  in  respect 
to  things  which  are  originally  unpleasant  and  ab- 
horrent is  found  in  the  callousness  of  the  grave  dig- 
gers in  Shakespeare's  Hamlet.  The  reader  will  re- 
call their  rude  jests  and  songs  as  they  go  about  their 
work,  which,  to  most  persons,  seems  quite  the  oppo- 
site of  jest  and  mirth  provoking.  As  Hamlet  and 
Horatio  observe  the  grave  makers,  the  former  re- 
marks : 

"Hath  this  fellow  no  feeling-  of  his  business,  that  he  sings 
at  gravemaking-?"  to  which  Horatio  replies, 

"Custom  hath  made  it  in  him  a  property  of  easiness." 

Very  similar  to  the  change  which  habit  works  in  our  feel- 
ings in  respect  to  large,  gross  situations  which  at  first  affect 
us  unpleasantly,  is  the  change  which  occurs  in  the  process 
of  mastering  the  first  steps  of  new  studies,  arts,  crafts — for 
instance,  of  a  foreign  language,  of  piano  technique,  of  teleg- 
raphy— in  fact,  of  any  new  subject  or  art  which,  at  the  out- 
set, requires  intense  application  and  effort.  At  first,  the 
necessary  exercise  is  painful,  but  by  a  process  of  accommo- 
dation it  loses  this  quality  or  even,  in  some  cases,  becomes 
pleasurable. 

While  it  is  true  that  our  feelings  tend  toward  the 
indifference  point  in  regard  to  those  things  which 
form  constant  features  of  our  environment,  there 


THE   FEELINGS  311 

grows  up,  quite  unconsciously,  a  fondness  for  what 
is  habitual  and  familiar.  Persons  often  become  at- 
tached to  lives,  kinds  of  work,  or  environments 
which  at  first  were  even  harsh  and  cruel.  In  these 
cases,  there  is,  probably,  first  a  period  of  intense 
pain,  then  one  of  indifference,  then  a  feeling  of 
reconciliation,  and,  finally,  the  feeling  of  attachment 
which  makes  itself  felt  first  when  there  is  a  threat- 
ened break.  The  illustrations  most  often  cited  of 
the  mollifying  power  of  custom  are  of  galley-slaves 
who  refuse  to  leave  their  yokes  though  offered  their 
freedom,  and  of  "men  grown  old  in  prison  who  ask 
to  be  readmitted  after  being  once  set  free."  Con- 
cerning habit  and  its  power  to  form  attachments  to 
lives  called  'hard',  James  observes:  "It  alone  pre- 
vents the  hardest  and  most  repulsive  walks  of  life 
from  being  deserted  by  those  brought  up  to  tread 
therein."  Illustrations  from  daily  life  of  attach- 
ment to  particular  ways  of  acting  and  thinking 
which  springs  up  through  habit  are  found  in  the 
comfort  that  grown  persons  find  in  old  ways  of  doing 
things  and  their  resentment  when  asked  to  change, 
and  in  the  familiar  experience  that  the  effort  to 
break  a  habit  of  long  standing  is  usually  a  disagree- 
ble  one.  The  principle  has  a  wide  range  of  appli- 
cation. The  explanation  of  all  forms  of  what  the 
younger  generation  calls  'old  fogyism',  whether  it 
takes  the  form  of  clinging  blindly  to  a  grotesque 
system  of  spelling,  or  of  cherishing  venerable  doc- 
trines in  the  realm  of  theology,  is  found  in  the  un- 
willingness to  break  with  the  habitual  and  custom- 
ary, and  this  unwillingness  is  due  to  the  feelings 


312  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

which  cluster  about  the  old  ways  of  thinking  and 
doing. 

One  other  illustration  of  the  influence  of  habit  in 
the  realm  of  feeling  may  be  mentioned,  namely,  that 
feeling-habits  of  pleasantness  or  unpleasantness 
frequently  become  attached  to  the  memories  of  par- 
ticular experiences.  For  example,  students  often 
say  that  they  have  acquired  an  habitual  dislike  for 
a  given  school  subject,  and  that  the  thought  thereof 
always  arouses  a  disagreeable  feeling.  In  like  man- 
ner, the  feeling  which  clings  to  the  memory  of  an 
unpleasant  journey,  to  that  of  a  house  in  which  we 
were  unhappy,  to  the  thought  of  a  community  which 
ruffled  our  feelings;  in  a  word,  to  the  memory  of 
any  situation  which  was  constantly  irritating,  be- 
comes set,  fixed,  habitually  disagreeable.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  cluster  of  pleasant  feelings  which 
attaches  to  the  thoughts  about  a  true  and  tried 
friend,  to  the  name  of  our  favorite  author,  to  the 
memories  of  the  happy  days  of  childhood,  may  settle 
into  an  habitual  feelmg  mode  of  pleasantness. 

Feeling  and  Association.  —  Slightly  changing  one 
of  James'  sentences  we  may  say,  'A  sensation  or 
idea  will  infect  another  with  its  own  feeling  tone 
when  they  have  become  associated  together  into  any 
sort  of  a  mental  whole.'  Sensations  or  ideas  which 
are  natively  unpleasant  may  become  pleasant  and 
those  which  are  natively  pleasant  may  become  un- 
pleasant through  association.  Sully  finds  an  illus- 
tration of  this  principle  in  the  observation  that  the 
cawing  of  a  crow,  a  sound  which  is  not  agreeable  in 


THE   FEELINGS  313 

itself,  may,  because  of  its  associations  with  pleas- 
ant experiences,  become  highly  pleasurable. 

"This  sound',  Sully  writes,  'in  the  case  of  those  who  have 
lived  in  the  country  in  early  life  and  enjoyed  its  scenes  and 
its  adventures,  is  well  known  to  become  a  particularly  agree- 
able one.  To  some  people,  indeed,  there  is  hardly  any  more 
delightful  sonorous  effect  than  that  of  this  rough  unmusical 
call.  The  explanation  is  that  this  particular  sound,  having 
been  heard  again  and  again  among  surroundings,  as  park 
and  woodland,  which  have  a  marked  accompaniment  of  pleas- 
ure, has  become  contiguously  interwoven  with  these  presen- 
tations, and  so  produces  a  faint  re-excitation  of  the  many 
currents  of  enjoyment  which  accompanied  these." ' 

So,  also,  the  crude  music  of  a  hand-organ  may  not 
be  in  itself  pleasant ;  but  to  the  person  who  in  child- 
hood sang  and  danced  to  its  simple  melodies,  the 
tones  may  revive  joyous  memories,  and  so  be  pleas- 
ing. 

"Why,"  asks  Ebbinghaus,  "is  a  sunny  spring  landscape 
usually  more  pleasant  than  the  same  view  in  winter?"  and 
answers,  "partly  because  the  coloring  of  the  former  is  pleas- 
anter;  but  chiefly  because  the  ideas  associated  with  the  one 
are  pleasurable  and  those  associated  with  the  other  are  un- 
pleasurable.  The  spring  landscape  reminds  one  of  life, 
warmth,  travel,  and  picnics;  the  winter  scene  suggests  death 
and  decay,  cold,  moisture,  overheated  and  ill-ventilated 
rooms." " 

Transferrence  of  Feeling.  —  Closely  connected  with 
the  fact  of  the  arousal  of  feeling  through  association 
is  the  so-called  'transferrence  of  feeling',  of  which 
the  miser's  love  of  money  is  the  accredited  illustra- 
tion. At  first,  the  money  is  valued  as  a  means  of 
securing  desired  objects;  but,  after  a  time,  the  feel- 


1  The  Hwnan  Mind,  1892,  Vol.  II,  p.  78. 
'Psychology:  Eng.  trans,  by  Meyer,  §  19. 


314  ELEMENTS   OF  PSYCHOLOGY 

ing  attaches  to  the  money  itself,  independently  of 
the  ideas  of  its  uses.  Or,  to  take  a  simpler  case,  sup- 
pose that  you  frequently  associate,  in  your  thinking, 
a  given  color  with  a  building  or  a  garment  which 
you  particularly  dislike;  then  it  is  likely  that  the 
color  itself  will  be  displeasing  to  you,  wherever  it 
occurs  and  quite  apart  from  its  earlier  relations. 
The  feeling  is  transferred  from  the  original  object 
as  a  whole  to  one  of  its  attributes  or  associates. 


REFERENCES 

Angell:   Psychology,  Chs.  XIII,  XIV. 

Judd:  Psychology,  Ch.  VII. 

Pillsbury:  The  Essentials  of  Psychology,  Ch.  XI. 

Royce:  Outlines  of  Psychology,  1903,  Ch.  VII. 

Stout:   Manual  of  Psychology,  pp.  210  ff.  276  ff. 

Titchener:  A  Text-Book  of  Psychology,  §§  68-74. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

EMOTION 

The  term  'emotion'  denotes  such  mental  expe- 
riences as  fear,  anger,  joy,  grief,  envy,  sympathy, 
pride,  humility,  and  their  like. 

The  present  chapter  includes,  first,  a  brief  de- 
scription of  the  distinguishing  feature  of  the  emo- 
tions, i.  e.,  the  characteristic  that  serves  to  mark 
them  off  from  all  other  mental  processes;  second, 
an  enumeration  of  the  essential  factors  of  an  emo- 
tion ;  third,  a  study  of  the  'James-Lange  theory'  of 
emotion ;  fourth,  an  outline  of  current  theories  as 
to  the  origin  of  the  emotional  reactions. 

The  distinctive  mark  of  Emotion.  —  The  character- 
istic of  the  emotions  is  found  in  the  meaning  of 
the  Latin  emovere  (to  shake,- to  stir  up),  from  which 
the  term  'emotion'  is  derived.  A  state  of  emotion 
is  essentially  a  state  of  excitement,  of  agitation,  of 
disturbance,  of  perturbation.  This  is  conspicuously 
true  of  the  stronger  emotions  like  rage  and  terror, 
but  it  is  also  true  of  the  quieter  emotions  whose 
outward  signs  are  often  slight  and  unnoticeable. 
Our  common  expressions,  'pent  up  anger',  'smolder- 
ing jealousy',  'choked  pity',  'curbed  emotion',  and 
many  more  like  them,  indicate  that,  in  our  everyday 
thinking,  a  fully  developed  emotional  process  is  con- 
ceived to  be  essentially  a  state  of  perturbation  or 
excitement. 

(315) 


316  ELEMENTS  OF  PSYCHOLOGY 

The  Factors  of  an  Emotion:  (i)  Organic  Sensa- 
tions. —  This  mental  agitation,  which,  in  our  view,  is 
the  distinguishing  feature  of  the  emotional  expe- 
rience, is  due,  in  part,  to  the  fact  that  the  compo- 
nents of  the  emotional  complex  vary  greatly  in  in- 
tensity from  moment  to  moment,  and  are  constantly 
changing,  often  with  great  rapidity,  their  relations 
to  one  another  and  to  the  total  conscious  state.  It 
is  due  in  the  main,  however,  to  the  presence  of  a 
special  set  of  sensations  which  originate  in  the 
various  bodily  organs  (respiratory,  circulatory,  di- 
gestive, motor,  and  glandular)  when  an  emotionally 
exciting  object  or  idea  is  present  to  consciousness; 
moreover,  the  consciousness  caused  by  these  bodily 
changes  (in  heart-beat,  breathing,  glandular  action, 
muscular  rigidity,  and  so  on)  gives  to  the  various 
emotions  their  characteristic  coloring;  in  fact,  in 
the  opinion  of  many  psychologists,  constitutes  in 
itself  the  whole  of  the  emotional  experience. 

Darwin's  description  of  the  bodily  reaction  to  fear 
exciting  objects  affords  a  good  illustration  of  the 
large  place  which  bodily  commotion  and  its  result- 
ing sensations  occupy  in  our  emotional  experience. 

"In  fear',  Darwin  writes,  'the  eyes  and  mouth  are  widely 
opened  and  the  eyebrows  raised.  One  stands  like  a  statue, 
motionless  and  breathless,  or  crouches  as  if  to  escape  obser- 
vation; the  heart  beats  quickly  and  violently,  so  that  it  pal- 
pitates or  knocks  against  the  ribs;  perspiration  exudes  from 
the  skin,  the  hair  stands  erect,  the  superficial  muscles  quiver, 
and  the  salivary  glands  act  imperfectly;  the  mouth  becomes 
dry  ....  and  the  voice  husky  or  indistinct,  or  may  alto- 
gether fail."' 


1  The  Expression  of  Emotions,  1905,  p.  289  f. 


EMOTION  317 

Or  take,  as  another  illustration,  the  same  author's  de- 
scription of  the  symptoms  of  rage:  "The  heart  and  circu- 
lation are  always  affected;  the  face  reddens  or  becomes  pur- 
ple, with  the  veins  on  the  forehead  and  neck  distended.  .  . 
But  sometimes  the  action  of  the  heart  is  so  much  impeded 
that  the  countenace  becomes  pale;  the  respiration  is  affected; 

the  chest  heaves  and  the  dilated  nostrils  quiver 

The  muscles  become  rigid,  the  body  stiffens,  the  mouth  is 
generally  closed  with  firmness,  the  teeth  are  clenched  or 
ground  together,  the  fists   are   clenched  as  if  to  strike  the 

offender But  the  muscular  system  is  often  affected 

in  a  wholly  different  way;  for  trembling  is  a  frequent  conse- 
quence of  extreme  rage;  the  paralyzed  lips  refuse  to  obey 
the  will,  and  the  voice  sticks  in  the  throat,  or  it  is  rendered 
loud,  harsh,  and  discordant.  If  there  be  much  and  rapid 
speaking,  the  mouth  froths,"  etc.,  etc." 

These  quotations,  supplemented  by  what  every 
student  may  easily  observe  in  his  own  emotional 
experiences,  and  in  the  signs  of  emotion  in  others, 
will  be  sufficient  warrant  for  the  statement  that  the 
disturbance  of  the  various  bodily  organs  is  a  prom- 
inent feature  of  every  emotional  reaction.  Indeed, 
so  prominent  is  this  feature  that  many  psychol- 
ogists, as  has  been  remarked  already,  regard  the 
consciousness  caused  by  these  organic  changes  as 
the  sum  and  substance  of  the  emotional  state.  Leav- 
ing aside,  for  the  time  being,  further  consideration 
of  this  latter  view,  we  may  inquire  what  factors 
besides  the  organic  resonance  are  present  in  the 
emotional  process. 

(2)  Feeling.  —  Besides  the  sensations  arising  from 
bodily  changes,  an  emotion  includes,  as  a  rule,  a 


»0p.  cit.  pp.  74,  238  f. 


318  ELEMENTS   OF  PSYCHOLOGY 

clearly  marked  feeling  factor  whose  relation  to  the 
total  emotive  process  calls  for  brief  notice. 

Prior  to  the  publication  of  the  'James-Lange 
theory'  which,  in  its  original  form,  teaches  that  emo- 
tions consist  of  reflexly  excited  organic  sensations, 
the  emotions  were  classed  as  feelings ;  and  even  yet, 
in  popular  speech,  feeling  and  emotion  are  not 
clearly  distinguished.  Thus  we  have  such  expres- 
sions as,  'feeling  of  fear',  'feelings  of  anger,  grief, 
joy,  pride,  etc.',  although,  as  we  have  seen,  fear, 
anger,  and  the  rest  are  emotions. 

Now  the  popular  identification  of  feeling  and  emo- 
tion points  to  the  fact  that,  in  many  emotions,  the 
feeling  aspect,  just  because  it  is  feeling,  is  so  prom- 
inent that  the  consciousness  of  the  exciting  object 
and  the  sensations  from  bodily  changes  are  obscured. 
For  example,  in  fear  or  grief,  if  intense,  the  feeling 
aspect  is  so  conspicuous  that  the  other  mental  fac- 
tors are  over-shadowed.  In  other  emotions,  e.  g., 
scorn,  contempt,  humility,  expectation,  surprise,  the 
feeling  factor  is  not  marked,  and  it  is  often  difficult 
to  say  whether  these  emotions  are  pleasant  or  un- 
pleasant. In  short,  emotions  are  usually  either  defin- 
itely pleasant  or  unpleasant;  but  the  feeling  aspect 
may  vary,  all  the  way  from  being  practically  non- 
existent to  an  intensity  in  which  it  over-shadows  all 
other  conscious  factors  in  the  process. 

If  now  it  be  asked,  whence  comes  the  pleasantness 
or  the  unpleasantness  of  an  emotive  state,  our 
answer  would  be  —  mainly  as  an  accompaniment  of 
the  organic  sensations  themselves ;  that  is,  the  char- 


EMOTION  319 

acteristic  quality  of  pleasantness  or  unpleasantness 
which  accompanies  the  bodily  sensations  aroused  by 
an  emotionally  exciting  object  constitutes  the  feel- 
ing-tone of  the  emotion.  For  example,  certain  sen- 
sations from  the  organs  of  circulation,  respiration, 
digestion,  the  throat,  skin,  muscles,  when  combined 
in  a  given  way,  form  an  essential  part  of  the  emo- 
tion of  fear,  and  also  condition  its  unpleasantness. 
On  the  other  hand,  smiles  and  laughter,  increased 
heart-beat,  heightened  activity  of  the  muscles,  wide- 
open  eyes,  head  erect,  dancing  about,  clapping  the 
hands,  stamping,  loud  laughter,  are  at  once  causes 
and  signs  of  the  pleasantness  of  a  joyful  experience. 
(3)  Consciousness  of  the  Exciting  Object.  — A  third 
factor  of  the  normal  emotional  experience  is  the 
consciousness,  of  varying  clearness,  of  the  exciting 
object.  Our  fears,  angers,  loves,  jealousies,  always 
have,  under  normal  conditions,  an  object  of  some 
sort  of  which  we  are  more  or  less  clearly  conscious. 
We  are  angry  at,  or  toward  or  about  some  one  or 
some  thing;  we  fear  some  person,  or  agency,  or  ob- 
ject, real  or  imaginary. 

It  is  said  that  in  some  forms  of  insanity,  the  patients  ex- 
perience 'objectless  emotions';  they  have  emotions  of  grief  or 
fear  or  anger,  or  joy  or  pride,  with  their  characteristic  or- 
ganic perturbation  and  their  appropriate  feeling-tone,  but 
deny  that  their  grief,  fear,  joy,  is  about  anything;  they  are 
just  sad,  frightened,  joyful,  and  that's  all  there  is  to  it. 
However  it  may  be  with  these  unfortunates,  the  emotions  of 
normal  persons  are  felt  in  reference  to  objects. 

The  James-Lange  Theory  of  the  Emotions.  — 
Common-sense  says  that  our  emotions  precede  and 


320  ELEMENTS   OF  PSYCHOLOGY 

cause  the  so-called  expressions  of  emotion;  that 
when,  for  example,  we  receive  good  news,  we  feel 
joy,  then  express  our  joy  by  smiles  and  laughter,  by 
clapping  the  hands,  by  the  light,  elastic  step,  and  so 
on  —  the  latter  being  called  "expressions"  of  the 
joyful  emotion ;  that  if,  when  alone  at  night  in  a  deep 
forest,  we  hear  a  strange  cry,  we  feel  fear,  then  the 
fear  expresses  itself  in  the  trembling  muscles,  the 
accelerated  heart-beating,  the  suspended  respira- 
tion, and  other  bodily  changes.  In  a  word,  the 
phrase  'expression  of  the  emotions'  incorporates  the 
common-sense  view  of  the  relation  of  emotion  to  its 
expression.  The  James-Lange  theory,  on  the  con- 
trary, is,  in  James'  words,  Vthat  the  bodily  changes 
follow  directly  the  perception  of  the  exciting  fact, 
and  that  our  feeling  of  the  same  changes  as  they 
occur  is  the  emotion.  Common-sense  says,  we  lose 
our  fortune,  are  sorry  and  weep;  we  meet  a  bear, 
are  frightened  and  run;  we  are  insulted  by  a  rival, 
are  angry  and  strike;"^  whereas  the  James-Lange 
theory  is  that  the  bodily  changes  (the  weeping,  or 
running,  or  striking)  precede  the  emotion,  and  that 
the  consciousness  aroused  by  these  changes  is  the 
emotion  —  the  sorrow  or  fear  or  anger. 

Since  this  theory  is  at  present  the  prevailing  one, 
and  since  it  forms  the  starting  point,  or  at  any  rate 
a  prominent  feature,  of  almost  every  modern  dis- 
cussion of  the  emotions  we  shall  do  well  to  consider 
briefly  what  may  be  said  for  and  against  it. 

The  arguments  upon  which  this  theory  rests  are 
the  following  as  stated,  in  substance,  by  James : 


^Principles  of  Psychology,  Vol.   II,   p.   449   f.      See  also,  Psycho- 
logical Review,  Vol.  I,   1894,  p.   516-529. 


EMOTION  321 

(1)  Particular  perceptions  certainly  do  produce  instantly 
wide-spread  bodily  effects,  antecedent  to  the  arousal  of  an 
emotion.  If,  for  example,  while  walking  we  suddenly  come 
upon  some  fearful  object  in  our  path,  say  a  snake,  a  bodily 
commotion  occurs  immediately  and  reflexly,  and  before  an 
idea  of  danger  can  arise;  moreover,  the  consciousness  of  this 
perturbation  seems  to  be  the  most  conspicuous  feature  of  the 
total  experience. 

(2)  "In  every  asylum  we  find  cases  of  absolutely  unmo- 
tived  fear,  anger,  melancholy,  etc."  In  such  cases  the  emo- 
tion is  not  caused  by  the  objects  in  the  patient's  environ- 
ment, nor  by  his  present  images  and  thoughts,  yet  it  exists 
in  a  character  as  real  and  as  formidable  as  if  it  followed  in 
the  wake  of  an  appropriate  perception  or  idea.  James'  theory 
is  that  these  'objectless  emotions'  are  induced  directly  by 
bodily  changes  whose  effects  in  consciousness  are  the  emo- 
tions of  fear,  anger,  dread,  or  what  not. 

(3)  "Every  one  of  the  bodily  changes,  whatsoever  it  be, 

is  felt  acutely  or  obscurely  the  moment  it  occurs 

Thus  a  contraction  of  the  eyes  and  brows,  often  inconsider- 
able, is  felt  when  one  is  worried  by  any  slight  trouble;  and 
when  momentarily  embarrassed  it  is  something  in  the  phar- 
nyx  that  compels  either  a  swallow,  a  clearing  of  the  throat, 
or  a  slight  cough;  and  so  on  for  as  many  more  instances 
as  might  be  named." 

(4)  "The  vital  point  of  my  whole  theory,"  James  writes, 
"is  this:  If  we  fancy  some  stron.'-i'  emotion  and  then  try  to 
abstract  from  our  consciousness  rf  it  all  the  feelings  of  its 
bodily  symptoms,  we  find  we  have  nothing  left  behind,  no 
'mind-stuff'  out  of  which  the  emotion  can  be  constituted,  and 
that  a  cold  and  neutral  state  of  intellectual  perception  is  all 

that  remains What  kind  of  an  emotion  of  fear 

would  be  left  if  the  feeling  neither  of  quickened  heart-beats, 
nor  of  shallow  breathing,  neither  of  trembling  lips  nor  of 
weakened  limbs,  neither  of  goose-flesh  nor  of  visceral  stir- 
rings, were  present,  it  is  quite  impossible  for  me  to  think. 


322  ELEMENTS   OF  PSYCHOLOGY 

.     .     .     Every  passion  in  turn  tells  the  same  story.     A  dis- 
embodied human  emotion  is  a  sheer  non-entity."  ' 

Objections  to  the  James-Lange  Theory.  —  A  view 
which  thus  runs  counter  not  only  to  common  sense, 
but  also  to  the  teaching  of  psychology  for  centuries, 
quite  naturally  has  aroused  a  wide-spread  discus- 
sion, much  of  which  takes  the  form  of  opposition 
to  the  theory.  Some  of  these  objections,  particularly 
those  raised  by  Wundt  and  Stout,  may  now  be  re- 
viewed. 

Wundt's  objections.  (1)  "The  definite  outer  symptoms  of 
emotions  do  not  appear,"  Wundt  maintains,  "until  such  time 
as  the  psychical  nature  of  the  emotion  is  already  clearly 
established.  The  emotion,  accordingly,  precedes  the  innerva- 
tion effects  which  are  looked  upon  by  these  investigators 
[James  and  Lange]  as  causes  of  the  emotion."  The  answer 
to  this  objection  is  that  the  James-Lange  theory  does  not 
hold  that  the  definite  outer  symptoms  appear  prior  to  the 
emotion;  the  rather  does  it  lay  stress  on  the  bodily  changes 
which  occur  in  the  inaccessible,  hidden  parts  of  the  organism, 
those  which  are  inner  and  not  open  to  observation,  as  the 
physical  basis  of  the  emotions,  though,  of  course,  according 
to  this  theory,  the  more  violent  emotions  are  dependent,  in 
part,  upon  the  conspicuous  'outer  symptoms'  to  which  "Wundt 
refers." 

(2)  "The  psychical  processes  [emotions]  are  much  more 
varied  than  are  their  accompanying  forms  of  expression." 
Wundt  holds,  in  other  words,  that  the  variety  of  mental 
states  called  emotions  is  much  greater  than  the  possible  var- 
iations of  organic   response  which  the  James-Lange  theory 


I  Principles  of  Psychology,  Vol  II,  p.  450  ff ;  also,  Psychology, 
p.  376  ff.  A  corollary  of  James"  theory  is,  "that  any  voluntary  and 
cold-blooded  arousal  of  the  so-called  manifestations  of  a  special 
emotion  should  ^ive  us  the  emotion  itself.  Now,"  James  continues, 
"within  the  limits  in  which  it  can  be  verified,  experience  corroborates 
rather  than  disproves  this  inference." 

i  Outlines  of  Psychology,  1907,  §  13,  p.  195  f. 


EMOTION  323 

requires.  James,  in  a  measure,  anticipated  this  objection  by 
the  statement  that,  "The  various  permutations  of  which  these 
organic  changes  are  susceptible  make  it  abstractly  possible 
that  no  shade  of  emotion  should  be  without  a  bodily  rever- 
beration as  unique,  when  taken  in  its  totality,  as  is  the  men- 
tal mood  itself."  Now  it  is  clear  that  these  opposing  state- 
ments do  not  settle  the  issue;  they  merely  define  it.  James 
held  that  the  forms  of  bodily  expression  may  be  as  varied  as 
are  our  emotional  experiences;  Wundt  says  they  are  not,  and 
the  question  remains  pretty  much  where  these  authors  left  it. 
(3)  "The  physical  concomitants  stand  in  no  constant  rela- 
tion to  the  psychical  quality  of  the  emotions It 

may  sometimes  happen  that  emotions  with  very  different, 
even  opposite,  kinds  of  affective  contents,  may  belong  to  the 
same  class  so  far  as  the  accompanying  physical  phenomena 
are  concerned."  This  again  raises  a  question  of  fact,  viz., 
do  the  same  changes  in  the  muscles,  heart-beat,  breathing, 
glandular  action,  and  so  on,  accompany  a  given  emotion, 
fear,  e.  g.,  on  one  occasion,  and  on  another,  a  different  emo- 
tion, or  even  one  opposite  in  character,  e.  g.,  courage?  It 
does  not  seem  that  such  is  the  case;  casual  observation  seems 
to  show  conclusively  that  a  change  in  the  nature  of  the 
bodily  reaction  is  accompanied  by  a  change  in  the  emotional 
experience;  moreover,  that  in  the  individual  experience,  the 
relationship  between  the  organic  changes  and  the  quality  of 
the  emotions,  including  their  'affective  contents,"  is  constant. 

Stout's  objections.  Stout  raises  two  objections 
to  the  James-Lange  theory,  which  are  more  serious, 
in  the  present  writer's  judgment,  than  those  just 
considered. 

Stout's  first  objection  relates  to  the  constitution 
of  the  emotive  process.  He  maintains  that  while  it 
may  be  impossible  for  an  emotion  to  exist  without 
the  organic  sensations,  it  does  not  follow  that  they 
constitute  the  whole  of  the  emotion.  In  other  words, 
Stout,  while  admitting  that  organic  sensation  is  an 
essential  factor  in  the  emotional  state,  holds  that  it 


324  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

is  not  the  sole  factor;  that  an  emotion  is  a  complex 
experience  and  includes,  besides  organic  sensations, 
conative  tendencies,  and  a  feeling  of  pleasantness  or 
unpleasantness  according  as  these  tendencies  are 
favored  or  hindered.  Thus  we  have,  in  this  writer's 
view,  sensations,  conative  impulses,  and  a  feeling  of 
pleasure  or  pain,  as  distinguishable  aspects  of  the 
total  emotional  state/ 

Altogether,  it  seems  better  to  widen  the  scope,  or 
meaning,  of  the  term  emotion,  as  Stout  does,  and  to 
include  under  it,  in  addition  to  the  consciousness  due 
to  particular  kinds  of  bodily  commotion,  also  the 
consciousness  of  the  exciting  object  and  a  character- 
istic feeling  tone,  to  which  Stout  adds  —  impulses  to 
action. 

A  second  objection  raised  by  Stout  relates  partic- 
ularly to  the  order  of  appearance  of  the  factors  in 
an  emotional  experience ;  this,  too,  involves  a  radical 
difference  in  theory.  In  order  to  illustrate  Stout's 
thought,  suppose  the  case  of  a  person  walking  at 
night  along  a  city  street,  when  suddenly  a  highway- 
man jumps  from  a  dark  alley,  thrusts  a  pistol  in  the 
victim's  face,  and  commands,  'Hands  up !'  Instantly, 
there  is  an  intense  and  diffused  disturbance  of  ner- 
vous equilibrium.  Now  this  primary  disturbance 
involves  both  the  brain  itself  and  the  nerves  leading 
to  different  parts  of  the  body,  and  "the  question  is 
whether  this  primary  neural  disturbance  is  itself 
correlated  with  consciousness  of  an  emotional  kind, 
or,  at  any  rate,  with  consciousness  which  forms  an 


>A  Manual  of  Psychology^  1899,  p.  289  ff. 


EMOTION  325 

essential  constituent  of  the  complete  emotion."^  In 
answer  to  this  question,  Stout  maintains  that  'the 
primary  nervous  excitement',  including  changes 
within  the  brain  itself  and  those  changes  in  the 
nervous  system  due  to  the  diffusion  of  the  nervous 
discharge,  is  itself  accompanied  by  a  mental  dis- 
turbance which  is  an  essential  feature  of  the  emo- 
tion; and  further,  that  this  mental  excitement  pre- 
cedes, in  time,  the  excitement  due  to  the  onrush  of 
reflexly  excited  impulses  from  other  bodily  organs. 
The  present  writer  agrees  with  Stout  on  this  point ; 
but  he  agrees  with  James  in  regarding  the  conscious- 
ness that  is  immediately  dependent  upon  the  com- 
motion in  the  bodily  organs  as  the  most  important 
part  of  the  emotional  experience,  and  as  the  factor 
which,  more  than  any  other,  serves  to  mark  off  the 
emotions  from  all  other  mental  phenomena. 

The  Genesis  of  Emotional  Reactions.  -  —  We  have 
seen  that  the  core  of  each  particular  emotional  expe- 
perience  consists  of  organic  sensations  of  a  given 
character,  number,  intensity,  and  form  of  combina- 
tion. Fear,  for  example,  derives  its  distinctive  fea- 
ture from  one  set  of  bodily  sensations ;  anger,  from 
another;  joy  and  grief,  from  still  others.  We  have 
now  to  ask,  how  comes  it  that  for  a  given  organism, 
each  emotionally  exciting  object  awakens  its  own 
specific  kind  of  bodily  commotion  and  no  other? 
how  comes  it,  for  example,  that  one  situation  pro- 


1  Stout,  op.  cit.  p  297,  note. 

'  On  this  topic,  the  student  should  read  Dewey's  articles  In  the 
Psych.  Rev.,  Vols  I  and  II,  wherein  he  undertakes  to  bring  into 
'organic  connection'  'Darwin's  principles  as  to  the  explanation  of 
emotional  attitudes,  and  the  James-Lange  theory  of  the  nature  of 
emotion'. 


326  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

vokes  organic  changes,  the  consciousness  of  which 
forms  the  characteristic  feature  of  the  experience 
called  anger?  and  that  others  arouse  the  reactions 
characteristic  of  fear,  joy,  disgust,  pity,  grief,  and 
so  on? 

It  may  be  said  at  once  that  the  question  regard- 
ing the  origin  of  our  various  emotional  reactions 
is,  in  large  measure,  essentially  the  same  as  that 
concerning  the  origin  of  our  instinctive  reactions; 
that  the  question,  why  do  given  objects  elicit  such 
special  kinds  of  emotional  response?  bears  a  very 
close  resemblance  to  such  inquiries  as,  how  shall  we 
explain  the  extraordinary  clinging  power  of  newly- 
born  infants?  or  why  do  bitter  tasting  substances 
call  forth  grimaces?  and  how  comes  it  that  as  the 
child  passes  from  infancy  to  maturity,  half  a  hun- 
dred or  more  instinctive  actions,  i.  e.,  actions  which 
are  'naturally  provoked  by  the  presence  of  specific 
sorts  of  outward  fact',  make  their  appearance?  And 
the  answer  in  both  cases  is  that  these  reactions  are 
due  mainly  to  the  individual's  inherited  tendencies. 
Our  first  step,  then,  in  accounting  for  our  emo- 
tional reactions  is  to  assume  that  the  principal  ones 
are  'innate  or  inherited  —  that  is,  have  not  been 
learned  by  the  individual.' 

But  this  statement  is  very  general,  and  sheds  little 
or  no  light  upon  the  problem  concerning  the  influe- 
ences  operative  in  the  course  of  organic  evolution 
which  gave  rise  to  the  particular  relationship  which 
now  exists  between  situations  of  a  given  nature  and 
our  particular  emotional  responses  thereto.  In  order 
to  provide  at  least  a  partial  answer  to  this  question, 
Spencer,    Darwin,   and   others   have   formulated   a 


EMOTION  327 

number  of  principles  which  admit  of  a  wide  variety 
of  applications,  as  is  seen  most  fully  in  Darwin's 
work  on  The  Expression  of  the  Emotions. 

Three  of  the  most  important  of  these  principles 
may  now  be  considered  in  turn.  The  first  of  these, 
to  employ  James'  words,  is  "the  principle  of  revival 
in  weakened  form  of  reactions  which  formerly 
(when  they  were  stronger)  were  useful  in  more 
violent  dealings  with  the  object  inspiring  the  emo- 
tion."^ Darwin's  fuller  statement  of  this  principle, 
slightly  modified,  is  as  follows : 

"When  any  object  has  led,  during  a  long  seines  of  gener- 
ations, to  some  voluntary  movement,  then  a  tendency  to  the 
performance  of  a  similar  movement  will  almost  certainly  be 
excited,  whenever  the  same  or  a  similar  object  is  present  to 
consciousness.  Such  habitual  movements  are  often  or  gener- 
ally inherited ;  and  they  differ  but  little  from  reflex  actions."" 

This  principle,  which,  for  the  sake  of  brevity,  may 
be  called  'the  principle  of  .waning  utility',  is  em- 
ployed by  Darwin  and  others  to  explain  a  large  num- 
ber of  emotional  reactions  (responses)  in  man  and 
the  lower  animals.  The  expression  of  fear,  e.  g.,  is 
explained  in  part  by  this  principle,  as  follows: 

In  past  ages,  man's  endeavor  "to  escape  from  his  enemies 
or  danger,  either  by  headlong  flight,  or  by  violently  strug- 
gling with  them,    ....    caused  the  heart  to  beat  rapidly, 

the  chest  to  heave,  and  the  nostrils  to  be  dilated. 

As  these  exertions  have  often  been  pi'olonged  to  the  last 
extremity,  the  final  result  would  have  been  utter  prostration, 
pallor,  perspiration,  trembling  of  all  the  muscles,  or  their 
complete  relaxation."  ^ 


1  Op.  cit,  p.  478  f. 

'The  Expression  of  the  Emotions,  1905,  p  48. 

»  Op.  cit.,  p.  307. 


328  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

So  at  the  present  time,  because  of  these  ancestral 
experiences,  the  same  results  in  the  form  of  nascent 
tendencies  to  flight,  or  crouching,  the  pallor,  etc., 
tend  to  reappear  as  reminiscent  echoes,  when  the 
man  of  today  is  in  the  presence  of  a  fear  provoking 
situation.  Again,  the  protrusion  of  the  lips,  so  often 
seen  in  children  and  highly  emotional  adults,  — 
sometimes  as  a  sign  of  sulkiness,  or  disappointment 
or  surprise,  sometimes  when  slightly  pleased  —  is, 
so  Darwin  surmises,  also  a  reversion  to  a  primordial 
expression  which  appeared  in  our  semi-human  pro- 
genitors' reactions  to  disappointing  or  surprising  or 
pleasing  situations.  In  like  manner,  the  upward  curl 
of  half  the  upper  lip  in  the  playful  or  defiant  sneer 
or  in  the  ferocious  snarl  is  a  descendant,  in  weak- 
ened form,  of  the  habit  possessed  by  our  semi-human 
progenitors  of  unfleshing  their  canine  teeth  when 
prepared  for  battle. 

(2)  Many  emotional  reactions  are  attributed  by 
Spencer,  Darwin,  and  others  to  the  undirected  over- 
flow of  nervous  energy  throughout  the  nervous  sys- 
tem which  many  stimuli,  particularly  strong  ones, 
cause.  Among  the  effects  ascribed  wholly  or  in 
part  to  the  diffusive  excitement  of  the  nervous  sys- 
tem are  —  the  cold  sweat,  the  dryness  of  the  mouth, 
and  the  trembling  of  the  muscles  in  fear;  the  'lump 
in  the  throat'  in  grief;  the  disturbance  of  the  func- 
tions of  the  liver  and  kidneys,  the  modified  secre- 
tions of  the  intestinal  canal,  the  changes  in  the 
heart-beat  and  breathing,  in  all  the  stronger  emo- 
tions. So  also  the  senseless  and  frantic  actions  of 
an  enraged  man  may  be  attributed  in  part  to  the 
undirected  overflow  of  nerve  force.     This  princple 


EMOTION  329 

seems  also  to  explain  the  strong  tendency  to  various 
purposeless  movements  and  the  utterance  of  various 
sounds  under  a  transport  of  joy,  rapture  or  ecstacy. 
"We  see  this',  Darwin  writes,  'in  our  young  children, 
in  their  loud  laughter,  clapping  of  hands  and  jump- 
ing for  joy.  .  .  .  The  above  purposeless  move- 
ments and  increased  heart-action',  Darwin  con- 
tinues, 'may  be  attributed  in  chief  part  to  the  excited 
state  of  the  sensorium,  and  to  the  consequent  undi- 
rected overflow,  (as  Mr,  Herbert  Spencer  insists) 
of  nerve-force."^  These  examples  will  suffice  to  illus- 
trate the  general  statement  that  many  emotional 
responses  "are  in  large  part  directly  due  to  the  dis- 
turbed or  interrupted  transmission  of  nerve-force 
from  the  cerebro-spinal  system  to  various  parts  of 
the  body." 

(3)  If,  in  accordance  with  the  first  principle 
stated  above,  certain  situations  regularly  call  forth 
reactions  of  a  given  kind,  there  will  be,  according 
to  the  principle  of  antithesis,  a  strong  and  involun- 
tary tendency  to  react  in  an  opposite  manner  under 
the  excitement  of  an  opposite  kind  of  situation.  This 
principle,  which  relates  particularly  to  the  function- 
ing of  the  muscular  system,  is  useful  in  accounting 
for  the  opposite  sensations  of  strain  and  relaxation 
which  form  so  prominent  a  feature  of  many  emo- 
tions. Thus,  the  sensation  of  strain  forms  a  con- 
spicuous factor  of  such  emotions  as  anger  (in  its 
various  forms)  astonishment,  hope,  anxiety,  de- 
fiance, jealousy,  indignation,  pride,  scorn,  while  the 


1  Op.  cit.,  pp.  76,  307. 


330  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

sensations  of  relaxation  are  prominent  in  dejection, 
despair,  grief,  humility,  helplessness,  sulkiness.  In 
like  manner,  the  body  erect,  the  squared  shoulders, 
the  expanding  chest,  the  clenched  fists,  the  frown, 
the  firmly  set  jaws,  of  the  indignant  man  yield  a 
set  of  strain  sensations  which  stand  clearly  opposed 
to  the  sensations  of  relaxation  which  belong  to  the 
emotions  of  regret  or  penitence.  Again,  the  high 
head,  the  lofty  carriage,  the  pufi'ed-up  demeanor, 
the  strutting  of  pride,  furnish,  it  need  hardly  be 
argued,  a  fund  of  strain  sensations  which  stand  in 
strong  contrast  to  sensations  of  relaxation  which 
are  features  of  humility. 

The  three  principles  thus  far  enumerated  afford  a 
partial  explanation  of  the  origin  of  inherited,  or 
innate,  emotional  reactions.  A  fourth  principle, 
that  of  habit  and  association,  relates  more  particu- 
larly to  the  development  of  emotional  responses  in 
the  individual  experience.  This  principle  is  that 
reactions  which  have  become  associated  with  given 
objects  are  repeated  in  weakened  form  on  the  ap- 
pearance of  similar  objects.  For  example,  the  signs 
of  disgust — the  movements  of  the  mouth,  the  frown, 
gestures  as  if  to  guard  oneself  against  the  offensive 
object,  a  sound  as  if  clearing  the  throat,  incipient 
retching,  spitting,  a  slight  shudder  and  so  on  — 
which  are  excited  by  present  objects  that  are  offens- 
ive to  taste  or  smell,  will  from  habit  arise  at  the 
image  or  idea  of  the  offensive  object  or  at  the  idea 
of  actions  or  objects  which  would,  if  present  to 
sense,  be  offensive.  Again,  the  movements  around 
the  nose  and  mouth  expressive  of  contempt,  some- 


EMOTION  331 

times  accompanied  by  a  slight  snort  or  expiration, 
are  the  same  as  those  which  follow  the  perception 
of  an  offensive  odor  and  the  wish  to  exclude  or  expel 
it.  So  in  contempt,  "we  seem  to  say  to  the  despised 
person  that  he  smells  offensively,  in  nearly  the  same 
manner  as  we  express  to  him  by  half-closing  our 
eyelids,  or  turning  away  our  faces,  that  he  is  not 
worth  looking  at.  It  must  not,  however,  be  sup- 
posed that  such  ideas  actually  pass  through  the  mind 
when  we  exhibit  our  contempt ;  but  as  whenever  we 
have  perceived  a  disagreeable  odor  or  seen  a  dis- 
agreeable sight,  actions  of  this  kind  have  been  per- 
formed, they  have  become  habitual  or  fixed,  and  are 
now  employed  under  any  analogous  state  of  mind."^ 
Summary.  In  our  study  of  Emotion  we  have  seen 
—  (1)  that  mental  perturbation  is  the  characteristic 
feature  of  the  emotional  state;  (2)  that  every  fully 
developed  emotion  includes  as  its  chief  factors  (a) 
a  plexus  of  organic  sensations,  (b)  a  feeling  of 
either  pleasantness  or  unpleasantness,  (c)  a  con- 
sciousness, of  varying  clearness,  of  the  emotion's 
object;  (3)  that  the  James-Lange  theory  must  be 
modified  so  as  to  take  account  of  all  of  the  factors 
just  enumerated;  (4)  that  the  principles  (a)  of 
waning  utility,  (b)  of  diffused  excitement  of  the 
nervous  system,  (c)  of  antithesis,  and  (d)  of  habit 
and  association,  afford  a  partial  explanation  of  the 
genesis  of  emotional  reactions  in  the  species  and  in 
the  individual. 


1  DarwiNj  Op.  cit.,  p.  265  f. 


332  ELEMENTS  OF   PSYCHOLOGY 


REFERENCES 

Angell:   Psychology,  Chs.  XVIII,  XIX. 
James:  Principles  of  Psychology,  Vol.  II,  Ch.  XXV. 
McDougall:  Social  Psychology,  1908,  Chs.  Ill,  V. 
Royce:   Outlines  of  Psychology,  Ch.  XIV. 
Stout:  Manual  of  Psychology,  Book  III,  Ch.  IV. 
Titchener:  A  Text-Book  of  Psychology,  §§  128-134. 


CHAPTER  XV 
THE  SENTIMENTS 

Meaning  of  the  Term  'Sentiment,'  —  The  term 
'sentiment',  like  so  many  others  which  the  psycholo- 
gists employ,  is  used  in  a  great  variety  of  meanings 
both  in  the  language  of  everyday  life  and  by  the 
psychologists  themselves.  Sometimes  it  is  used 
loosely  as  the  equivalent  of  either  belief,  view,  judg- 
ment, body  of  doctrine  or  a  declaration  of  faith,  as 
when  one  says  in  respect  to  a  given  opinion,  view, 
or  body  of  principles,  'this  is  my  sentiment',  'this  is 
the  sentiment  of  our  party  or  of  our  community.' 
Sometimes  it  means  something  unreal,  fanciful,  as 
opposed  to  the  real,  genuine,  substantial,  as  when 
one  ridicules  another's  interest  in  music  or  literature 
or  religion  by  saying,  "it  is  a  mere  sentiment  with 
him;  he  doesn't  take  it  seriously."  Most  frequently, 
however,  the  term  is  used  as  the  equivalent  of  emo- 
tion ;  thus,  one  speaks  of  the  tender,  the  amiable,  joy- 
ful sentiments,  and  of  those  which  are  angry,  en- 
vious, or  ugly,  when  the  speaker  usually  means  am- 
iable, tender,  joyful,  angry,  etc.,  emotions. 

In  this  chapter  we  shall  mean  by  'Sentiment' 
(following  two  English  writers)^  a  relatively  per- 
manent emotional  attitude,  or  disposition,  in  respect 
to  a  given  object  or  class  of  objects  which  is  assumed 


1  Shand,  Character  and  Emotions,  Mind,  N.  S.  Vol.  V,  p.  214  flf ; 
SrotTTj  A  Manual  of  Psychology ,  1899,  pp.   300,  575  ff. 

( .333 ) 


334  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

to  be  helpful  or  harmful,  valuable  or  valueless, 
worthy  or  unworthy;  in  other  words,  a  sentiment 
is  an  emotional  attitude  which  attaches  to  a  value 
judgment,  i.  e.,  a  judgment  regarding  the  value, 
from  the  point  of  view  of  the  person  who  utters  it, 
of  a  given  object.  Three  points  of  this  definition 
should  be  noted:  (1)  a  sentiment  involves  a  judg- 
ment of  worth  in  regard  to  a  given  object  or  group 
of  objects;  (2)  it  includes  the  feeling  and  the  re- 
flexly  excited  organic  sensations  that  are  character- 
istic of  its  closely  related  emotions;  (3)  it  is  a  rela- 
tively permanent  mode  of  consciousness,  it  is  a  com- 
plex mental  habit.  Under  the  term  sentiment,  thus 
defined,  we  should  include  "affection  for  our  friends, 
the  home  sentiment,  and  every  sentiment  we  can 
use  the  term  'love'  to  express,  as  love  of  knowledge, 
art,  goodness,  love  of  comfort,  and  all  our  interests, 
as  interest  in  our  health,  fortune  and  profession, 
interest  in  books,  collections,"  and  so  on.  We  should 
include  also  every  fixed  tendency  we  can  use  the 
terms  dislike  or  hatred  to  denote,  and  many  more 
besides,  since  every  kind  of  emotional  reaction,  if 
oft  repeated,  tends  to  develop  into  a  fixed  emotional 
attitude,  or  sentiment.- 

Sentiment  and  Emotion  Compared.  —  The  senti- 
ments are  distinguished  from  the  emotions  in  four 
principal  ways:  (1)  Broadly  speaking,  the  former 
are    pre-eminently    human    experiences,    while   the 


2  This  definition  of  'sentiment'  seems  to  give  due  prominence  to 
those  meanings  which  the  term  bears  in  literature  and  in  everyday 
speech  ;  and  it  also  enables  us  to  mark  it  off  from  the  terms  'feel- 
ing' and  'emotion.'  *  *  «  Other  equivalents  of  the  word  'senti- 
ment' are  'interest,'  'emotional  disposition'  or  'attitude.' 


THE   SENTIMENTS  335 

emotions  are  shared  in  by  man  and  the  lower  ani- 
mals. This  rough  distinction  of  the  sentiments  as 
human  experiences  and  the  emotions  as  animal,  is 
clearly  valid  in  respect  to  the  abstract  sentiments 
on  the  one  hand,  and  in  respect  to  the  'coarser  emo- 
tions' on  the  other.  No  animal,  however  noble, 
knows  anything  of  the  sentiments  of  'duty',  'justice', 
'reverence',  and  the  like;  but  many  animals  share 
with  man  the  emotions  of  fear,  anger,  joy,  grief  — 
which  are  fittingly  called,  by  some  writers,  the  'ani- 
mal emotions.' 

It  is  no  doubt  true  that  a  dog's  fondness  for  his  master 
has  points  of  similarity  to  the  master's  affectionate  regard 
for  his  old  home,  his  native  town,  or  his  friends;  and  both 
are  instances  of  the  attachment  which  arises  in  regard  to 
those  features  of  an  environment  to  which  one  is  accustomed. 
But  the  two  diifer  in  that  the  man's  sentimental  interest  may 
be  based,  in  part,  upon  ideas  of  worth  which  attach  to  the 
objects  of  his  regard,  while  the  dog's  fondness  for  his  master 
is  based  wholly  upon  the  pleasurable  sensations  of  being 
fed,  petted,  and  the  like.  It  is  also  true  that  many  emotional 
experiences  are  entirely  foreign  to  the  lower  animals,  e.  g., 
admiration  for  ideal  goods  like  truth,  beauty,  goodness,  the 
emotions  of  envy,  scorn,  sympathy,  hope,  and  many  others 
which  are  distinctly  human  affairs.  And  yet  in  a  broad  way, 
we  may  think  of  the  sentiments  as  characteristically  human 
experiences,  and  that  man  and  the  lower  animals  are  joint 
tenants  in  the  territory  of  the  emotions. 

(2)  The  sentiments  are  relatively  permanent  at- 
titudes toward  certain  objects,  or  groups  of  objects, 
whereas  the  emotions  are  transitory  in  character. 
A  sentiment  abides ;  an  emotion  runs  its  course  and 
vanishes.    For  example,  the  sentiment  of  patriotism 


336  ELEMENTS   OF  PSYCHOLOGY 

is  a  relatively  stable  attitude ;  to  say  of  one's  patriot- 
ism that  it  is  emotional  is  to  imply  that  it  is  fickle, 
spurious,  lacking  in  permanent  worth.  In  like  man- 
ner, the  sentiment  which  attaches  to  one's  ideas  of 
duty  is  a  fixed  characteristic  of  one's  nature;  it  is 
either  ridicule  or  a  reproach  to  describe  a  person's 
sense  of  duty  as  emotional.  The  sentiments  are  rela- 
tively permanent,  while  the  emotions  come  and  go. 

Stout  has  this  distinction  in  mind  when  he  says  that 
the  difference  between  emotion  and  sentiment  is  to  a  large 
extent  a  distinction  between  dispositions  and  actual  states 
of  consciousness.  "Such  a  sentiment  as  friendship',  Stout 
continues  in  substance,  'cannot  be  experienced  in  its  totality 
at  any  one  moment.  It  is  felt  only  in  the  special  phase 
which  is  determined  by  the  circumstances  of  the  moment. 
The  sorrow  of  parting  from  a  friend  and  the  joy  of  meeting 
him  after  a  long  absence  are  actual  experiences;  but  the 
sentiment  which  includes  the  susceptibility  to  either,  accord- 
ing to  circumstances,  cannot  in  its  totality  be  an  actual 
experience.  It  is  a  complex  emotional  disposition  which 
manifests  itself  in  actual  emotions.  The  sentiment,  so  far 
as  actual  experience  is  concerned,  is  constituted  by  the  man- 
ifold  emotions   in  which   it  manifests  itself." ' 

(3)  We  have  seen  above  that  many  of  our  emo- 
tional responses  are  innate;  the  sentiments,  on  the 
other  hand,  are  acquired;  they  are  built  up  out  of 
a  multitude  of  feeling-emotional  responses,  and  re- 
quire a  period  of  growth.  This  is  obviously  true 
of  such  sentiments  as  love  of  justice,  loyalty  to 
one's  family  or  school,  devotion  to  science  or  art, 
and  the  like.  Some  of  these  are  developed  in  the 
course  of  education  by  teachers  and  parents,  some 


lA  Manual  of  Psychology^  1899,  p.  578. 


THE   SENTIMENTS  337 

of  them  grow  up  without  conscious  purpose  on  any 
one's  part,  partly  by  imitation,  partly  by  absorp- 
tion from  the  fund  of  common  sentiment. 

Apparent  exceptions  to  the  general  statement  that  the 
sentiments  develop  slowly  are  found  in  those  instances  in 
which  some  single,  impressive  experience  fixes  a  deep  and 
lasting  sentiment,  as  when  Saul  of  Tarsus  was  transformed 
from  a  persecutor  of  the  Christians  to  the  most  powerful 
preacher  of  the  new  doctrine;  or  in  the  case  of  Lincoln  who 
suddenly  became  possessed  of  a  deep  hatred  of  human  slav- 
ery when,  as  a  young  man,  he  chanced  to  visit  a  certain 
slave  market.  These  exceptions,  however,  are  only  appar- 
ent, for  doubtless  in  the  case  of  both  St.  Paul  and  Lincoln, 
a  multitude  of  experiences  had  prepared  them  for  the  over- 
powering sentiments  which  were  henceforth  to  dominate 
their  lives. 

(4)  The  sentiments  lack  the  organic  commotion, 
the  surging,  the  rush  and  turbulence,  which  are 
characteristic  of  many  emotions.  And  yet,  while 
this  difference  is  clear,  the  sentiments  are  not 
merely  cold,  intellectual  perceptions  that  certain 
things  are  true,  or  good,  or  beautiful,  or  praise- 
worthy. With  slight  changes,  .James'  statement  in 
respect  to  the  'bodily  reverberation'  as  an  aspect  of 
the  moral,  intellectual  and  aesthetical  feelings  —  the 
subtler  emotions  —  applies  also  to  the  sentiments : 

"In  all  cases  of  intellectual  or  moral  rapture  we  find," 
he  says,  "that  unless  there  be  coupled  a  bodily  reverbera- 
tion of  some  kind  with  the  mere  thought  of  the  object  and 
cognition  of  its  quality;  unless  we  actually  laugh  at  the 
neatness  of  the  demonstration  or  witticism;  unless  we  thrill 
at  the  case  of  justice,  or  tingle  at  the  act  of  magnanimity; 
our  state  of  mind  can  hardlv  be  called  emotional  at  all." ' 


*  Principles    of    Psychology,   Vol.    II,    p.    470. 


338  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

So  we  may  say  of  the  sentiments  that  although  they 
lack  the  organic  resonance  and  the  mental  pertur- 
bation which  characterize  the  emotions,  they  still 
have,  in  Ladd's  words,  "a  sensuous  coloring  from 
the  changes  in  the  concomitant  condition  of  the  per- 
ipheral and  intra-organic  vessels  and  tissues."  This 
is  as  one  would  expect  when  one  recalls  that  the 
sentiments  are  the  final  resultants,  the  precipitates, 
of  multitudes  of  emotional  experiences ;  they  too  are 
tinged  by  the  influence  of  the  earlier  emotional  re- 
actions. 

The  sentiments  which  are  called  'warm'  or  'glow- 
ing' show  most  plainly  the  presence  of  the  organic 
factor.  In  illustration  take  Ladd's  description  of 
the  sentiment  of  sublimity : 

"That  is  sublime,"  Ladd  writes,  "which  is  lifted  up  on 
high;  and  that  is  sublime  to  me,  to  which  I  am  conscious, 
in  some  way,  of  being  drawn  or  lifted  up,  or  allured  to 
make  the  effort  of  lifting  myself  up.  Such  an  experience 
cannot,  however,  be  had  with  any  warmth  of  feeling  —  that 
is,  there  can  be  no  actual  psychosis  corresponding  to  the 
sentiment  of  the  sublime  —  without  the  appropriate  psycho- 
physical activity.  This  activity  includes  ....  the  deeper 
inspiration,  the  quickened  circulation,  the  tendency  to  widen 

the  extent  of  the  heart  movement,  etc The  effort  to 

repress  this  mild  and  massive  bodily  resonance  ....  tends 
at  once  to  diminish  this  characteristic  form  of  feeling  [senti- 
ment.] Its  presence  is  undoubtedly  felt  in  all  experience 
with  this  sentiment.  Moreover,  the  different  shadings  of 
the  sentiment  are,  to  a  large  extent,  obtained  only  by  differ- 
entiations in  the  characteristic  tone  of  the  bodily  resonance.' 

Shand,  in  the  article  referred  to  above,  points  out 
one  other  relation  between  sentiment  and  emotion, 

'  Psychology :     Descriptive   and    Explanatory,   1899,    p.    562    f. 


THE    SENTIMENTS  339 

which  we  may  notice  briefly.  We  have  seen  in  a 
foregoing  paragraph  that  the  sentiments  are  out- 
growths of  our  emotional  experience.  Now  Shand 
calls  attention  to  the  fact  that  "sentiments,  when 
they  have  once  come  into  being,  are  themselves  in- 
dependent sources  of  manifold  feeling  attitudes  and 
conations  [emotional  reactions],  varying  with  vary- 
ing circumstances.  They  are  complex  mental  dis- 
positions, and  may,  as  divers  occasions  arise,  give 
birth  to  the  whole  gamut  of  the  emotions."-  For 
example,  "in  the  love  of  an  object,"  Shand  writes, 
"there  is  pleasure  in  presence  and  desire  in  absence 
.  .  .  .  fear  in  the  expectation  of  its  loss,  injury 
or  destruction  ....  anger  when  the  course 
of  our  interest  is  opposed  or  frustrated  .... 
regret  in  the  loss,  injury,  or  destruction  of  the  ob- 
ject, joy  in  its  restoration  or  improvement,  and  ad- 
miration for  its  superior  quality  or  excellence.  And 
this  series  of  emotions  —  as  episodes  in  the  life- 
history  of  the  sentiment  —  occurs  now  in  one  order, 
now  in  another,  in  every  sentiment  of  love  or  inter- 
est, when  the  appropriate  conditions  are  present."- 
We  have  given  in  the  preceding  paragraphs  a 
brief  description  of  sentiment  as  an  emotional  atti- 
tude, and  we  have  indicated  certain  ways  in  which 
it  differs  from  and  is  related  to  emotion.  We  may 
turn  next  to  a  group  of  phenomena  which,  in  the 
history  of  thought,  have  been  regarded  as  the  char- 
acteristic sentiments,  namely,  those  emotional  atti- 
tudes that  attach  to  the  ideals  of  truth,  beauty,  and 


'Stout,  The  Gronnrhvork  of  Psycholtxjy.  1003,  p.   224. 
^Manual  of  Psychology,  575  ff. 


340  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

goodness.  They  are  usually  referred  to  as  the  intel- 
lectual, aesthetic,  and  ethical,  or  moral,  sentiments. 
In  what  follows,  we  shall  be  interested  most  in  the 
order  and  conditions  of  the  development  of  these 
sentiments  in  the  individual. 

The  Intellectual  Sentiments.  — The  intellectual  sen- 
timents are  those  permanent  emotional  attitudes 
which  are  developed  in  respect  to  knowledge,  or 
truth,  as  something  worthy  in  itself.  These  senti- 
ments are  designated  by  a  variety  of  expressions, 
the  most  common  of  which  are,  "the  love  of  knowl- 
edge for  its  own  sake,"  "refined  intellectual  curios- 
ity," "the  feeling  of  the  value  of  truth  in  and  for 
itself,"  "the  pleasures  of  knowledge,"  "devotion  to 
science,"  and  others  of  a  similar  purport. 

If  we  were  to  search  out  the  sources,  the  most 
primitive  forms  from  which  an  individual's  intel- 
lectual sentiments  spring  we  should  come  upon  the 
sensational  curiosity,  or  hunger,  of  infancy,  i.  e., 
those  impulses,  which  are  so  striking  a  feature  of 
every  normal  baby's  behavior,  to  see,  hear,  touch, 
handle  everything  in  his  environment;  we  should 
also  be  struck  by  the  evident  pleasure  which  accom- 
panies the  gratification  of  these  impulses.  A  little 
later,  appears  the  absorbing  interest  in  whatever  is 
new  or  strange,  the  childish  wonder  at  all  things 
marvelous.  Then  comes  the  delight  in  acquiring 
knowledge  about  all  sorts  of  things  —  the  objects  of 
nature,  heroes  and  their  achievements,  historical 
events,  politics  and  government.  This  is  a  period  of 
disinterested  curiosity,  the  period  when  the  pupil's 
native  eagerness  for  knowledge  is  the  pride  and  the 


THE  SENTIMENTS  341 

delight  of  teachers  and  parents.  It  is  now  that  edu- 
cation may  well  be  conceived  of  as,  in  part,  a  process 
of  nourishing,  directing,  strengthening,  and  refining 
the  pupil's  intellectual  interests.  Then,  later,  the 
youth  begins  to  see  the  practical  benefits  of  a  well- 
stored  mind,  the  distinction  which  comes  to  'the 
man  who  knows',  and  the  practical  advantages 
which  the  well  informed  man  has  over  the  ignorant 
one;  he  may  also  feel  pride  in  his  knowledge  as  a 
source  of  strength,  and  shame  in  his  ignorance  since 
it  means  weakness.  He  is  now  at  the  age  to  believe 
that  'knowledge  is  power',  and  that  it  is  valuable 
because  it  does  give  its  possessor  practical  advan- 
tages in  the  struggle  for  position,  influence,  riches, 
and  fame.  This  is  the  stage  at  which  most  seekers 
after  knowledge  stop.  Knowledge  for  them  is  good, 
but  it  is  good  only  as  a  means  to  some  other  end. 

So  far  there  is  little  of  the  love  of  knowledge  as  a 
sentiment  or  passion.  The  nearest  approach  to  it 
is  found  in  the  intellectual  avidity  of  childhood  and 
youth,  but  this  is  too  concrete,  too  much  in  regard 
to  particular  things,  and  too  evanescent  to  be  called 
an  intellectual  sentiment.  The  last  stage  is  reached 
only  by  the  exceptional  minds.  Only  a  few  choice 
spirits  in  each  generation,  even  among  the  most  en- 
lightened peoples,  ever  come  to  care  deeply  for 
knowledge  as  a  good  in  itself;  and  these  are  our 
scholars,  philosophers,  and  our  heroes  of  scientific 
research ;  those  who  like  Bacon,  Newton,  Kant,  Dar- 
win, and  Helmholtz,  devote  their  lives  to  the  pur- 
suit and  interpretation  of  known  truth  and  to  the 
extension  of  the  boundaries  of  human  knowledge. 


342  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

There  can  be  no  doubt  of  the  genuineness  of  this  senti- 
ment or  of  its  nobility  as  a  controlling  interest  in  the  lives 
of  many  who  profess  it.  And  yet,  as  Ladd  remarks,  "a 
purely  sentimental  feeling  toward  a  fictitious  creature  of 
imagination  called  'science',  or  a  secretive  and  miser-like 
eagerness  to  acquire  and  hoard  facts,  are  affective  phe- 
nomena which  ....  are  almost  pathological  in  character." 
As  illustrative  of  the  'secretive  and  miser-like  eagerness  to 
acquire  and  hoard  facts',  one  thinks  of  the  hermits  found  in 
almost  every  age  and  land,  who  like  the  Hungarian,  Mentelli, 
philologist  and  mathematician,  without  a  definite  end  in 
view,  simply  for  the  pleasure  of  learning  and  to  satisfy 
their  intellectual  cravings,  devote  their  entire  lives  to  study, 
having  apparently  no  other  aims. 

Mentelli's  case  is  typical  enough  of  a  class,  much  larger 
than  is  generally  known,  of  intellectual  misers  living  in  vol- 
untary exile  and  spending  all  their  time  and  strength  in 
study,  to  warrant  a  brief  quotation  from  his  biography  as  it 
is  reproduced  by  Ribot,  as  follows: 

"Living  at  Paris,  in  a  filthy  lodging,  the  use  of  which 
was  allowed  him  out  of  charity,  he  had  cut  off  from  his  ex- 
penditures all  that  was  not  absolutely  necessary  to  sustain 
life.  His  outlay  —  apart  from  the  purchase  of  books  — 
amounted  to  seven  sous  (cents)  a  day,  three  of  which  went 
for  food,  and  four  for  light.  .  .  .  All  he  needed  was  water 
which  he  fetched  for  himself,  potatoes  which  he  cooked  over 
his  lamp,  oil  to  feed  the  latter,  and  coarse  brown  bread." 
Ribot  cites  Mentelli  and  others  like  him  as  cases  "where  the 
love  of  knowledge  alone,  untarnished  by  other  motives,  has 
all  the  characteristics  of  a  fixed  and  tenacious  passion,  fill- 
ing the  whole  of  life,  and  expressing  the  whole  nature  of 
man."  ^ 

I     The  Moral  Sentiments.  —  In  order  to  account  for 

'the  origin  and  development  of  the  moral  sentiments 

in  the  individual,  we  have  to  consider  the  action  of 


'  The  Psychology  of  the  Emotions,  1906,   p.   373  f. 


THE   SENTIMENTS  343 

certain  environmental  agencies  upon  certain  of  the 
individual's  innate  tendencies  and  capacities. 
Among  the  child's  native  tendencies  or  impulses 
which  may  be  regarded  as  the  special  conditions  of 
the  development  of  the  moral  sentiments  are  to  be 
noted —  (1)  the  self-regarding  impulses,  the  indi- 
vidualistic instincts,  love  of  pleasant  experiences 
and  dislike  of  painful  ones,  and  (2)  the  social  in- 
stincts of  sympathy,  the  impulse  to  echo  the  feeling 
and  emotional  reactions  of  others  (social  respons- 
iveness or  sensitivity),  the  love  of  approbation  and 
dislike  of  blame.  We  assume  further  that  the  indi- 
vidual has  (a)  the  capacity  to  form  habits,  (b)  the 
ability  to  profit  by  experience  which  latter  capacity 
involves  memory,  and  (c)  the  power  to  reject  some 
of  the  possibilities  of  action  and  select,  maintain, 
and  strengthen  others.  The  environmental  agencies 
necessary  to  the  development  of  the  moral  senti- 
ments are  persons,  in  the  role  of  authority,  issuing 
commands,  rewarding  obedience  and  punishing  dis- 
obedience, stamping  with  approval  what  the  society 
regards  as  right,  disapproving  what  it  regards  as 
wrong ;  developing,  cherishing  all  actions  which  pro- 
mote the  general  good  of  society;  smothering,  up- 
rooting those  which  are  judged  to  be  harmful;  and, 
in  addition,  furnishing  an  example  of  conduct  which 
is  socially  acceptable,  and  also  the  grounds  of  its 
acceptability. 

An  individual  with  the  endowment  of  instincts 
and  capacities  outlined  above,  and  environmental 
agencies  which  act  upon  these  in  the  way  indicated, 
are  the  necessary  conditions  for  the  development  of 


344  ELEMENTS  OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

the  moral  sentiments  in  the  individual.  For  pur- 
poses of  description,  this  developmental  process  may 
be  thought  of  as  consisting  of  four  stages.  First, 
is  the  stage  of  control  by  rewards  and  punishment; 
second,  the  imitative  stage;  third,  the  stage  char- 
acterized by  fixed  habits;  fourth,  that  in  which 
rationalized  ethical  sentiments  are  dominant  in  the 
individual's  behavior. 

Two  points,  however,  in  respect  to  the  division  of 
this  developmental  process  into  a  number  of  periods 
should  be  carefully  noted:  (1)  We  are  not  to  sup- 
pose that  these  stages  correspond  in  any  literal 
sense  to  definite  age  periods  in  the  life  of  the  indi- 
vidual. As  a  matter  of  fact,  however,  the  first  stage 
corresponds  roughly  to  the  period  of  infancy  and 
early  childhood;  the  second,  to  that  of  childhood 
and  youth ;  and  the  age  of  fixed  habits  is  reached  at 
twenty  or  twenty-five,  while  the  rule  of  the  enlight- 
ened moral  sentiments  is  established  somewhat 
later.  But  this  correspondence  is  only  rough,  at 
best,  and  is  not  important  for  our  purposes.  (2)  It 
should  be  observed  that  the  different  periods  with 
their  characteristic  activities  and  motives  to  activity 
over-lap.  A  given  stage  is  not  sharply  marked  off 
from  those  which  precede  or  follow  it.  Thus,  while 
we  may  suppose  that  the  moral  behavior  of  many 
adults  is  dominated  by  fixed  moral  sentiments,  we 
may  still  doubt  that  many  persons  ever  completely 
outgrow  the  influence  of  the  hope  of  reward  and  the 
fear  of  punishment. 

With  this  understanding  of  the  terms  'stage'  and 
'period',  we  may  say  that  the  first  stage  is  one  in 


THE   SENTIMENTS  345 

which  the  incentives  and  determinants  to  given 
Ivinds  of  conduct  exist  in  the  form  of  rewards  — 
usually  some  sense-pleasure  —  when  the  individual's 
conduct  is  judged  to  be  good,  and  punishment  — 
usually  corporal — when  it  is  judged  bad.  It  will  not 
be  thought  by  anyone  that  this  mode  of  controlling 
the  conduct  of  a  child  is  an  effective  or  economical 
way  of  arousing  and  fostering  the  moral  sentiments 
—  the  love  of  right  and  hatred  of  the  wrong  —  in 
themselves.  Moreover,  this  method,  since  it  appeals? 
merely  to  motives  of  prudence,  tends,  when  pro- 
longed, as  we  are  taught  by  the  ethical  philosophers, 
to  undermine  the  moral  life;  and  certain  it  is  that 
the  person  who  does  the  good  deed  and  refrains 
from  doing  the  bad  one  in  order  to  gain  pleasure, 
in  the  one  case,  and  to  avoid  pain,  in  the  other,  is 
far  from  the  blessedness  of  him  'whose  delight  is  in 
the  moral  law.' 

The  second  stage  is  marked  chiefly  by  the  imita- 
tive behavior  of  the  child  or  youth.  During  this 
period  the  individual  repeats  imitatively  innumer- 
able feeling-emotion  responses  of  those  with  whom 
he  is  associated  —  parent,  teacher,  companion.  The 
things  which  cause  the  tingle  of  admiration  or  the 
shudder  of  disgust  in  others  arouse  the  same  expe- 
riences in  him.  Their  delight  is  his  delight;  their 
abhorrence,  his.  At  this  stage,  the  individual's 
feeling-emotional  responses,  in  respect  to  questions 
of  moral  behavior,  are  largely  an  echo  of  those  of 
his  social  leaders.  If  their  responses  are  worthy, 
his  will  reflect  in  some  measure  that  quality ;  if  they 
are  base,  his  will  be  also.    It  need  scarcely  be  said 


346  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

that  this  stage  is  still  far  from  that  of  the  fully 
ripened  character  with  its  funded  capital  of  ration- 
alized moral  sentiments. 

A  third  stage  is  reached  when,  by  dint  of  repe- 
tition, an  individual  comes  to  experience  habitually 
the  same  feelings  and  emotions  in  respect  to  moral 
ideas,  situations,  or  suggestions.  He  is  no  longer 
controlled  wholly  by  prudential  reasons  —  thoughts 
of  the  pleasures  and  pains  which  may  befall  him; 
nor  is  he  swayed  by  every  turn  of  emotion  in  his 
associates.  From  habit,  certain  kinds  and  ideals  of 
conduct  commend  themselves  to  his  judgment  and 
awaken  a  thrill  of  approval;  certain  other  kinds 
provoke  his  censure,  and  arouse  feelings  of  repug- 
nance or  indignation.  He  may  not  be  able  to  justify 
his  emotional  responses  to  moral  situations,  but  for 
good  or  for  ill  his  character  is  fixed. 

We  have  traced  in  outline  three  stages  in  the 
development  of  the  moral  sentiments  in  the  individ- 
ual: (1)  the  pleasure-pain  stage;  (2)  the  stage  of 
imitation;  and  (3)  the  period  of  fixed  attitudes  in 
regard  to  moral  questions.  A  higher  stage  of  de- 
velopment is  reached  when  moral  situations  not 
only  call  forth  uniformly  a  definite  body  of  feeling 
and  emotion,  but  when  the  individual  can  justify 
his  habitual  modes  of  response  by  referring  to 
ethical  standards,  when  he  comes  to  see  that  the 
sort  of  conduct  which  the  conscience  of  society  com- 
mends promotes  in  some  way  the  general  welfare 
of  its  members,  and  that  those  forms  of  behavior 
which  are  condemned  are  subversive'  of  the  general 
good.    This  is  the  stage  of  insight  into  the  grounds 


THE   SENTIMENTS  347 

of  one's  ethical  responses.  For  example,  the  sense 
of  condemnation  which  dishonesty,  injustice,  and 
like  wrongs  arouse  is  based  on  insight  into  the  injury 
they  work  in  society.  Consider  further  the  ration- 
alized sentiments  which  cluster  about  the  Hebrew 
decalogue.  No  doubt  the  Commandments  owe  part 
of  their  power  over  the  minds  of  men  to  certain  fea- 
tures of  the  Old  Testament  account  of  their  deliver- 
ance to  Moses;  but  their  influence  over  the  more 
reflective  minds  grows  partly  out  of  the  perception 
that  the  manner  of  life  which  the  Commandments 
enjoin  is  an  essential  condition  of  a  people's  pros- 
perity. 

The  more  abstract  moral  sentiments  of  devotion 
to  duty,  the  feeling  of  obligation,  reverence  for  the 
moral  law,  grow  naturally  out  of  the  particular  con- 
crete experiences  and  observations  just  mentioned. 
That  is,  the  frequent  observation  of  the  beneficent 
I'Gouits  which  follow  obedience  to  the  moral  law 
leads,  by  a  simple  process  of  induction  to  the  con- 
clusion that  law,  in  the  broad  sense,  is  worthy  of 
admiration  and  reverence.  So  of  the  sentiments 
which  gather  about  other  abstract  moral  goods  or 
ideals  like  justice,  honesty,  benevolence — they  arise 
by  a  process  of  generalizing  on  the  basis  of  a  num- 
ber of  concrete  experiences. 

The  Aesthetic  Sentiment. — The  aesthetic  senti- 
ment is  a  permanent  tendency  or  disposition  to  find 
enjoyment  in  the  beautiful  in  its  various  forms  and 
modes  of  manifestation.  Love  of  the  beautiful,  as 
a  sentiment,  difl"ers  from  aesthetic  feelings  and  emo- 
tions in  much  the  same  way  that  a  habit  differs 


348  ELEMENTS   OF  PSYCHOLOGY 

from  the  individual  activities  by  which  the  habit  is 
formed;  it  is  a  crystalization  from  a  multitude  of 
sesthetical  responses. 

The  aesthetic  sentiment,  as  thus  described,  is  a 
late  attainment  of  the  indivdiual,  but  its  beginnings 
are  found  in  the  little  child's  pleasure  in  sense  im- 
pressions, particularly  those  of  sight  and  hearing. 
Even  in  infancy  we  find  a  rudimentary  feeling  for 
the  beautiful  in  the  responses  to  various  presenta- 
tions of  light,  color,  and  sound.  In  the  opinion  of 
Sully, 

"It  is  commonly  some  bit  of  bright  light,  especially  when 
it  is  in  movement,  which  first  charms  the  eye  of  the  novice; 
the  dancing  fireflame,  for  example,  the  play  of  the  sunlight 
on  a  bit  of  glass  or  a  gilded  frame.  In  some  cases  it  is  a 
patch  of  bright  color  or  a  gay  pattern  on  the  mother's  dress 
which  calls  forth  a  vocal  welcome  in  the  shape  of  baby  'talk- 
ing.' In  the  out  of  door  scene,  too,  it  is  the  glitter  of  the 
running  water,  or  a  meadow  all  white  with  daisies,  which 
captivates  the  glance.  Light,  the  symbol  of  life's  joy,  seems 
to  be  the  first  language  in  which  the  spirit  of  beauty  speaks 
to  the  child." 

Consequently  his  delight  in  colors  is  not  so  much  a 
pleasure  in  the  colors  themselves  as  in  their  bright- 
ness ;  hence  the  preference  of  most  children  for  the 
bright,  luminous  tints.  Later,  children  show  an 
interest  in  color  as  color,  and  many  of  them  develop 
color  preferences  which  last  throughout  life.  Later 
still  appears  the  appreciation  of  the  finer  shades 
and  tints  and  of  color  combination  and  harmony. 

It  is  well  known  that  little  children  are  highly  sen- 
sitive to  sound.  Sometimes,  perhaps  nearly  always 
in   infancy,   sounds   serve   only   to   startle   and   to 


THE   SENTIMENTS  349 

awaken  fear,  but  at  other  times,  if  they  are  low  and 
soft,  and  if  they  occur  in  rhythmic  series,  they  are 
pleasing.  So  delight  in  simple  tunes  and  melodies, 
when  they  are  not  too  loud,  is  accounted  among  the 
native  capacities  of  the  normal  child ;  it  is  the  rudi- 
mentary form  from  which  are  developed  all  the 
higher  forms  of  musical  appreciation  and  insight. 

It  is  an  open  question  whether  appreciation  of 
color  harmony,  proportion,  balance,  symmetry,  unity 
of  design,  and  other  elements  of  artistic  composition 
is  inborn  or  acquired.  It  seems  likely,  however,  that 
most  persons  develop  easily  and  without  special 
training  at  least  a  negative  appreciation  of  these 
formal  elements,  i.  e.,  they  are  affected  unpleasantly 
by  objects  which  lack  them.  Thus,  one  says,  of  a 
work  of  art,  "there  is  something  'wrong'  with  that, 
but  I  don't  know  what."  Again,  the  passing  throng, 
though  unable  to  give  reasons  for  their  preference, 
like  the  one  of  two  adjoining  buildings  or  pictures 
which  embodies  all  the  features  of  artistic  composi- 
tion and  dislike  the  other  which  lacks  them.  But 
whatever  view  we  may  adopt  in  respect  to  the 
innateness  of  these  higher  forms  of  sesthetic  appre- 
ciation, there  can  be  no  doubt  that  love  of  bright- 
ness, color,  rhythm  and  melody  is  well-nigh  uni- 
versal and  affords  the  foundation  for  a  very  real,  if 
not  always  highly  enlightened,  superstructure  of 
sesthetical  sentiment. 

When  we  consider  the  process  by  which  these 
rudimentary  aesthetic  tendencies  are  trained  and 
developed,  we  find  the  same  laws  operative  which 
obtain  in  the  development  of  the  other  sentiments. 


350  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

The  child  is  taught  that  certain  things  are  beautiful 
and  that  certain  others  are  ugly.  If  example  and 
precept  are  in  agreement,  he  sees  that  his  leaders 
take  pleasure  in  the  things  which  they  commend  to 
his  admiration  and  that  they  are  repelled  by  the 
things  which  he  is  told  are  ugly.  Again,  the  child 
is  praised  when  his  aesthetic  judgments  accord  with 
those  of  his  elders  and  he  is  reproved  when  they  do 
not.  Moreover,  an  effort  is  made  to  smother  and  to 
check  whatever  inborn  tendencies  the  child  may 
have  to  find  pleasure  in  the  aesthetically  uncouth, 
first,  bj^  keeping  the  child's  environment  free  from 
all  things  coarse,  gross  and  aesthetically  offensive; 
and  positively  by  beautifying  his  environment  in 
every  way  possible.  In  time,  the  child's  habits  in 
respect  to  the  beautiful  and  the  ugly  become  fixed ; 
he  has  acquired  a  persistent  tendency  to  take  delight 
in  the  former  and  to  find  the  latter  offensive. 

REFERENCES 

Angell:    Psychology,  p.  392. 

McDougall:  Social  Psychology,  Chs.  V,  VL 

Stout:   Manual  of  Psychology,  p.   575  ff.     The  Groundwork 

of  Psychology,  Ch.  XVIL 
Titchener:   A  Text-Book  of  Psychology,  §§136-137. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

CONSCIOUSNESS  AND  ACTION 

In  chapter  III  of  his  Talks  on  Psychology,  James 
outlines  the  'old  historic  divergence  of  opinion'  con- 
cerning the  function  of  human  consciousness.  On 
the  one  side  are  those  who  tend  "to  estimate  the 
worth  of  a  man's  mental  processes  by  their  effects 
upon  his  practical  life."  On  the  other,  are  those 
who  cherish  the  view  that  "man's  supreme  glory 
is  to  b©  a  rational  being,  to  know  absolute  and 
eternal  and  universal  truth."  ....  If  one  ac- 
cepts and  emphasises  the  theoretical  ideal,  "abstrac- 
tion from  the  emotions  and  passions,  and  with- 
drawal from  the  strife  of  human  affairs  would  be 
not  only  pardonable,  but  praiseworthy;  and  all  that 
makes  for  quiet  and  contemplation  should  be  re- 
garded as  conducive  to  the  highest  human  perfec- 
tion." Whereas,  from  the  practical  point  of  view, 
"the  man  of  contemplation  would  be  treated  as  only 
half  a  human  being,  passion  and  practical  resource 
would  become  once  more  glories  of  our  race,  a  con- 
crete victory  over  this  earth's  outward  powers  of 
darkness  would  appear  an  equivalent  for  any 
amount  of  passive  spiritual  culture,  and  conduct 
would  remain  as  the  test  of  every  education  worthy 
of  the  name."'  Continuing,  James  observes  that  "it 
is  impossible  to  disguise  the  fact  that  in  the  psychol- 

>  Talks   to   Teachers  on  Psychology,   1899,  p.  23. 
(351) 


352  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

ogy  of  our  own  day  the  emphasis  is  transferred 
from  the  mind's  purely  rational  function  where 
Plato  and  Aristotle,  and  what  one  may  call  the  whole 
classic  tradition  in  philosophy  had  placed  it,  to  the 
so  long  neglected  practical  side."  And  in  particular, 
there  is,  in  modern  psychology,  strong  emphasis  of 
the  view  that  our  mind's  primary  function  is  to  aid 
us  in  getting  along  in  the  world.  "Our  sensations,' 
James  continues,  'are  here  to  attract  us  or  to  deter 
us,  our  memories  to  warn  or  encourage  us,  our 
feelings  to  impel,  and  our  thoughts  to  restrain  our 
behavior,  so  that  on  the  whole  we  may  prosper  and 
our  days  be  long  in  the  land." 

It  is  foreign  to  our  purpose  to  enter  into  a  dis- 
cussion of  the  relative  merits  or  short-comings  of 
these  two  views  regarding  the  ideal  human  life,  or 
as  to  what  constitutes  the  mind's  chief  function. 
We  may,  however,  without  hesitation  accept  the 
teaching  that  one,  and,  in  point  of  time,  the  primary 
function  of  consciousness,  both  for  man  and  for  the 
lower  animals,  is  to  guide  action  in  the  pursuit  of 
practically  useful  goods. 

We  have  seen  in  an  earlier  chapter  that  the  sim- 
plest form  of  the  nervous  system,  structurally  and 
functionally,  consists  (1)  of  sensory  cells  whose 
function  is  to  receive  impressions  from  the  outside 
world,  (2)  of  central  cells  which  either  absorb, 
transmit,  or  redirect  the  impulses  thus  received,  and 
(3)  motor  cells  whose  function  is  to  arouse  activity 
in  the  muscles  or  other  bodily  organs.  We  saw  also 
that  the  general  function  of  the  nervous  system  is 
to  receive  impressions  from  the  outer  world  and  to 


CONSCIOUSNESS  AND  ACTION  353 

excite  the  appropriate  responses  thereto.  We  have 
found,  moreover,  that  when  we  pass  from  a  con- 
sideration of  the  structure  and  function  of  the  sim- 
plest nervous  systems  to  the  highest  and  most  com- 
plex forms  as  found  in  man  and  the  higher  animals, 
that  the  general  outlines  of  our  description  still 
hold  good,  if  amended  in  one  important  respect,  viz., 
that  in  the  process  of  organic  evolution  the  central 
nerve  cells  of  the  lower  forms  of  animals  have  un- 
dergone an  enormous  increase  as  regards  number, 
size,  complexity  of  structure  and  function.  That 
is,  we  may  still  say  that  the  nervous  system  of  the 
highest  animals,  of  man,  e.  g..  consists  essentially  of 
organs  for  the  reception  of  impressions  from  out- 
side stimuli,  of  organs  of  transmission,  redirection 
or  modification  of  the  impulses  aroused  thereby,  and 
of  motor  cells  and  fibres  which  excite  action  in  var- 
ious parts  of  the  body.  Finally,  we  may  repeat  that 
no  nervous  impulse  is  ever  lost,  that  every  impres- 
sion received  by  the  nervous  rystem  works  itself  out 
sooner  or  later  in  a  modification  of  our  behavior. 
As  Judd  remarks : 

"Every  nervous  current  must  produce  some  effect  before 
it  is  dissipated,  for  a  current  of  enerjsry  must  do  some  work, 
it  cannot  disappear.  The  effects  produced  by  nervous  im- 
pulses are  of  two  kinds.  First,  the  energ^y  may  be  absorbed 
in  the  course  of  its  transmission,  in  which  case  it  will  pro- 
duce chanpfes  in  the  condition  of  the  nervous  tissue,  thus 
contributing  to  the  modification  of  the  structure  of  that 
tissue.  Second,  it  may  be  carried  to  the  natural  outlet  of  all 
nervous  excitations;  namely,  the  motor  channels  leading  to 
the  muscles  or  other  active  organs  of  the  body.  It  will  there 
produce   some    form   of  muscular   or   glandular   activity.      If 


354  ELEMENTS   OF  PSYCHOLOGY 

it  contributes  to  changes  in  structure,  these  changes  in 
structure  will  ultimately  influence  new  incoming  impulses 
which  are  on  the  way  to  the  active  organs.  We  may,  there- 
fore, say  that  directly  or  indirectly,  all  incoming  nervous 
impulses  are  transmitted  to  the  active  organs  of  the  body 
after  being  more  or  less  completely  redirected  or  partially 
used  to  produce  structural  changes  in  the  nervous  organs." ' 

Having  recalled  these  elementary  teachings  of 
biology  regarding  the  structure  and  function  of  the 
nervous  system,  we  may  proceed  to  the  study  of  the 
principal  forms  of  animal  activity.  For  convenience 
in  description  we  may  classify  all  individual  actions, 
human  or  brute,  as  either  hereditary  or  acquired. 
To  the  former  class  belong  the  automatic,  reflex,  and 
instinctive  actions ;  to  the  latter,  the  acquired  auto- 
matisms— activities  which  have  become  habitual — 
and  volitionally  controlled  actions.  These  five  forms 
of  action  may  be  considered  in  the  order  named. 

Automatic  Movements.  —  Our  account,  in  order  to 
be  complete,  should  include  at  least  brief  reference 
to  the  so-called  automatic  movements  of  the  organs 
of  respiration,  circulation,  and  digestion,  as  found 
in  the  higher  animals.  These  movements  while  not 
directly  preceded  or  accompanied,  ordinarily,  by 
consciousness  are  still  the  source  of  a  rich  variety 
of  experiences.  For  example,  as  we  have  seen  in 
CHAPTER  XIV,  the  sensations  and  feelings  arising 
from  the  disturbance  of  the  normal  functioning  of 
these  organs  form  a  conspicuous  and  characteristic 
feature,  the  body,  so  to  speak,  of  the  emotions  as 
described  by  James  and  his  disciples.      Further,  as 


^  Paychology,  1907,   p.   22. 


CONSCIOUSNESS   AND  ACTION  355 

we  have  seen  in  an  earlier  chapter,  these  organic 
processes,  as  the  source  of  a  special  group  of  sensa- 
tion's, affect  the  'tone'  of  our  total  consciousness. 
Concerning  them  and  their  influence,  Stout  writes : 

"The  heart's  beat  and  its  modifications,  the  constriction 
and  dilation  of  the  blood-vessels,  breathing,  swallowing,  the 
secretion  of  saliva,  and  the  like,  are  not  normally  accom- 
panied by  distinctly  appreciable  sensations.  I  say  distinctly 
appreciable  sensations,  because,  in  all  pi-obability,  they  do 
in  their  totality  contribute  to  determine  the  state  of  con- 
sciousness as  a  whole,  giving  it  a  certain  tone  or  modality. 
But  the  effects  of  the  various  organic  processes  blend  into  a 
vague  total  experience.  Their  several  effects  are  not  separ- 
ately appreciable.  The  most  we  can  say  is  that,  as  Dr. 
Michael  Foster  puts  it,  "if  the  whole  of  our  abdominal  viscera 
were  removed,  we  should  be  aware  of  the  loss  as  a  change  in 
our  common  or  general  sensibility.'  " ' 

Reflex  Actions.  —  Next  in  order  should  be  men- 
tioned reflex  action  which  may  be  defined  as  an  im- 
mediate and  uniform  motor  response  to  an  appro- 
priate external  stimulus.  Instances  of  the  more 
familiar  reflexes  are,  —  the  expansion  and  contrac- 
tion of  the  pupil  of  the  eye  with  varying  degrees  of 
illumination,  a  sleeping  person's  withdrawal  of  the 
hand  or  foot  when  it  is  touched,  winking  or  dodging 
in  response  to  a  sudden  threatening  motion,  the 
infant's  clasping  and  clinging  to  objects  placed  in  its 
hand,  sneezing  and  coughing  when  the  mucous  mem- 
brane of  the  nose  and  throat  is  irritated,  the  swal- 
lowing reflex,  and  the  sucking  reflex  of  infants. 

Reflex  actions  are  distinguished  from  the  auto- 
matic actions  by  the  immediacy  of  the  purposes 


»A  Manual  of  Payohology,  p.    126  f. 


356  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

which  they  serve,  and  by  the  fact  that  their  stimuli 
are  usually  outside  the  organism.  Thus  under 
normal  conditions  a  threatening  motion  calls  em- 
phatically for  immediate  action,  and  the  response, 
unless  suppressed,  occurs  at  once.  The  fact  that  the 
stimuli  to  reflex  action  usually  lie  outside  the  or- 
ganism does  not  seem  to  require  illustration. 

Reflex  actions  are  classified  by  Stout  and  others 
as  either  pure  reflexes  or  sensation-reflexes,  A  purCf 
or  physiological,  reflex  is  one  which  is  not  accom- 
panied by  a  definite  change  in  consciousness.  For 
example,  the  pupillary  reflex  is  wholly  unconscious; 
so,  also,  probably,  are  the  sucking  and  clasping  re- 
flexes of  the  first  days  of  infancy,  while  winking  the 
eye-lids  or  jerking  the  hand  away  in  response  to 
threatening  or  harmful  stimuli  are  accompanied  by 
consciousness  of  varying  definiteness  and  clearness. 
A  sensation-reflex,  as  the  name  implies,  is  a  response 
to  a  sensation.  The  latter  is  often  extremely  indef- 
inite and  equivocal;  but  the  fact  that  an  activity 
is  preceded  or  accompanied  by  consciousness,  even 
though  it  be  vague,  serves  to  mark  it  off  from  the 
pure,  or  unconscious,  reflexes.  Jerking  the  hand 
away  from  a  hot  stove  which  one  touches  accident- 
ally, or  dodging  a  missile,  may  serve  as  examples 
of  sensation-reflexes.  In  regard  to  the  position  of 
reflex  actions  in  the  scale  of  human  behavior  it  is 
clear,  to  use  Judd's  words,  that  "they  are  primitive 
in  character  and  far  removed  from  voluntary 
choice." 

Certain  of  the  responses  of  early  infancy  that  are  some- 
times   described    as    imitative    actions    should,    perhaps,    be 


CONSCIOUSNESS   AND   ACTION  357 

classed  among  the  sensation-reflexes.  For  example,  reliable 
observers  have  reported  instances  of  babies  repeating  the 
actions  of  others,  e.  g.,  movements  of  the  head  and  arms, 
protrusion  of  the  lips  and  tongue,  at  an  age  (as  early  as 
the  fourth  month  in  some  cases)  that  precludes  the  suppo- 
sition that  they  are  conscious,  or  purposive.  They  are  due, 
apparently,  to  the  fact  that  in  the  inherited  nervous  system 
of  the  child  there  is  a  close  functional  connection  between 
the  excitation  of  certain  sensory  centres  in  certain  specific 
ways  and  certain  specialized  motor  responses  thereto. 

In  reference  to  the  same  point  Kirkpatrick  writes,  "The 
extraordinary  facility  with  which  children  sometimes  repro- 
duce sounds  which  they  hear,  often  without  practice,  rivaling 
the  accuracy  of  the  phonograph,  indicates  that  there  must 
be  a  close  relation  between  the  centres  for  sound  perceptions 
and  the  centres  controlling  the  movement  of  the  vocal  organs. 
The  facility  with  which  gestures  are  imitated  indicates  that 
the  visual  centres  are  related  to  the  centres  controlling  arm 
movements."  ^ 

Instincts  and  Instinctive  Action :  Definition.  —  Al- 
though every  one  knows  in  a  general  way  what  is 
meant  by  an  instinctive  action,  it  is.  perhaps,  impos- 
sible to  give  a  definition  of  the  term  which  will  be 
entirely  free  from  objections.  It  will  be  sufficient 
for  our  present  purposes,  however,  to  say  that  an 
instinctive  action  consists  of  a  series  of  coordinated, 
unlearned  acts  which,  when  performed,  attain  a  rel- 
atively definite,  though  unforeseen  end. 

The  term  'instinct'  is  sometimes  used  as  a  class  name  for 
all  instinctive  actions;  at  other  times,  it  means  the  impulse, 
or  tendency,  to  act  instinctively.  Usually,  the  context  will 
tell  in  which  of  these  two  meanings  the  term  is  used. 

Instinctive  and  Reflex  Action.  —  This  definition 
will  serve  to  mark  off  roughly  the  instinctive  actions 
from  reflex,  volitional,  and  habitual  actions  on  the 

^aenetic  Psychology,  1909,  p.  125. 


358  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

one  hand  and  from  the  emotions  on  the  other.  Thus 
we  may  say,  following  Angell,  that  an  instinctive 
action  differs  from  a  reflexive  one  mainly  in  the 
fact  that  the  former  involves  a  number  of  acts 
which  taken  together  lead  up  to  some  adaptive  con- 
sequence, such  as  the  building  of  a  nest,  the  feeding 
of  young,  and  the  like;  whereas,  in  reflex  action 
the  response  is  simple  and  immediate.  They  differ 
also  in  the  fact  that  while  most  reflex  acts  are  neither 
preceded  nor  accompanied  by  consciousness,  many 
instinctive  actions,  particularly  of  the  higher  ani- 
mals, have  well  marked  conscious  antecedents  and 
accompaniments.  For  example,  the  mating,  nest- 
building,  and  migrating  instincts  of  birds  are  prob- 
ably preceded  by  a  period  of  unrest  and  of  indefinite 
though  intense  yearning,  due,  perhaps,  to  intra- 
organic changes,  the  details  of  which  vary  from 
instinct,  to  instinct ;  and  they  are  also  accompanied 
probably  by  alternating  satisfaction  and  dissatis- 
faction according  as  the  course  of  the  action  is  free 
or  impeded. 

Instinctive  and  Volitional  Action.  —  Instinctive 
differs  from  volitional  action,  first,  in  the  fact  that 
in  the  latter  the  agent  is  conscious  of  the  purpose 
of  the  action,  while  in  the  former,  at  any  rate  on  its 
first  occurrence,  the  end  is  unforeseen ;  second,  vol- 
untary actions,  as  we  shall  see  presently,  are  depend- 
ent both  as  to  their  origination  and  nature  upon 
individual  experience,  whereas  instinctive  actions 
are  provided  for  in  the  inherited  structure  of  the 
individual's  nervous  system.  As  the  nature  of  the 
sensations  which  an  animal  shall  experience  is  de- 
termined by  the  structure  and  action  of  its  sense- 


CONSCIOUSNESS   AND   ACTION  359 

organs,  so  its  instinctive  behavior  is  determined  by 
its  inherited  nervous  organization.  The  machinery, 
so  to  speak,  of  the  instincts  is  present  at  birth,  or  is 
provided  in  the  natural  order  of  organic  growth  and 
development,  while  in  volitional  action  it  is  acquired 
in  the  course  of  the  individual's  experience.  In 
short,  volitional  actions  are  actions  that  are  ac- 
quired, learned  and  that  are  consciously  guided;  in- 
stinctive actions  arise  and  run  their  course  inde- 
pendently of  both  training  and  conscious  guidance. 

Instinct  and  Habit. — Instinctive  and  habitual  ac- 
tions have  a  number  of  common  characteristics,  but 
they  differ  in  one  important  respect;  namely,  the 
former  are  inherited  modes  of  behavior  while  the 
latter  are  acquired  during  the  life-time  of  the  indi- 
'  vidual.  Another  statement  of  this  same  distinction 
is  that  instinctive  actions  result  from  racial  expe- 
rience while  habits  are  the  products  of  individual 
experience.  They  differ  also  in  the  fact  that  habitual 
actions,  as  a  rule,  lack  the  emotional  excitement,  the 
physical  and  mental  commotion,  that  characterize 
many  instinctive  actions. 

Instinct  and  Emotion.  —  Many  reactions,  human 
or  animal,  may  be  classed  as  either  instinctive  or 
emotional.  Thus  if  one  snatches  from  a  child  his 
favorite  toy,  the  child's  response  is  said  to  be  in- 
stinctive if  we  note  merely  what  he  does;  or  emo- 
tional, if  we  picture  to  ourselves  his  mental  state. 
Or,  again,  if  one  suddenly  comes  upon  a  fear  excit- 
ing object,  one's  actions  are  said  to  be  instinctive, 
while  the  mental  agitation  aroused  is  called  an  emo- 
tion. In  James'  words,  "an  emotion  is  a  tendency 
to  feel  [changes  in  consciousness],  and  an  instinct 


360  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

is  a  tendency  to  act  characteristically,  when  in  pres- 
ence of  a  certain  object  in  the  environment." 

In  respect  to  the  foregoing  attempt  to  mark  off 
the  instincts  from  other  forms  of  behavior,  it  should 
be  remembered  that  the  distinctions  are  drawn  more 
or  less  arbitrarily;  further,  that  many  forms  of 
animal  behavior  resist  our  best  efforts  to  label  them 
and  tuck  them  away  in  our  schemes  of  classification, 
no  matter  how  carefully  devised  the  latter  may  be. 
For  example,  shall  we  classify  a  fish's  impulse  to 
dart  toward  and  snap  up  floating  particles,  the 
moth's  headlong  flight  into  the  candle  flame,  the 
feigning  death  of  certain  animals,  as  reflexes  or  as 
instincts?  And  shall  we  call  a  boy's  play-ground 
battles,  or  his  rush  to  the  circus  parade,  instinctive 
or  volitional  phenomena?  And  as  for  the  distinc- 
tion between  instinct  and  emotion,  we  have  seen 
already  that  many  kinds  of  behavior  which,  from 
one  point  of  view,  we  call  instinctive,  from  another, 
may  be  described  as  emotional. 

Characteristics  of  Instincts.  —  Having  indicated 
the  general  nature  of  instinctive  actions,  and  having 
seen  how  they  may  be  marked  off  roughly  from  other 
modes  of  behavior,  we  may  next  consider  some  of 
their  more  special  characteristics,  or  attributes. 

(1)  Some  instincts  are  delayed  in  appearing.  The 
statement  that  a  given  mode  of  behavior  is  inborn, 
not  acquired,  need  not  mean  that  it  makes  its  ap- 
pearance immediately  after  birth.  In  fact,  while 
some  instinctive  actions  are  present  from  the  first, 
most  of  them  are  more  or  less  delayed.  The  instinct 
of  the  newly  hatched  chick  to  peck  at  small  objects, 


CONSCIOUSNESS   AND   ACTION  361 

the  young  robin's  instinct  to  open  its  mouth  to  re- 
ceive food  which  the  parent  bird  brings,  the  sucking 
instinct  of  the  young  of  mammals,  and  others  which 
are  immediately  necessary  for  the  individual's  pres- 
ervation make  their  appearance  very  early.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  mating,  nest-building  and  migrating 
instincts  of  birds  are  delayed  in  their  appearance 
for  weeks  or  months.  Yet  the  last  three  named 
forms  of  behavior  are  as  truly  inborn,  instinctive, 
as  are  the  first  named. 

In  this  connection,  one  important  difference  between  the 
human  instincts  and  those  of  the  lower  animals  may  be 
mentioned;  namely,  that  the  former,  excepting  those  imme- 
diately necessary  to  sustain  life,  are  slower  in  their  appear- 
ance than  the  latter.  This  is  another  statement  of  the  fact 
that  the  period  of  human  infancy  is  more  prolonged,  ana 
that  human  beings  reach  maturity  at  a  slower  rate  than  do 
the  lower  animals.  And,  speaking  generally,  in  regard  to 
the  time,  the  order,  and  the  conditions  of  the  appearance  of 
the  instinctive  modes  of  behaviqr,  we  may  say  that  some  of 
them  are  present  from  birth,  that  others  are  more  or  less 
delayed,  and  that  the  time  and  order  of  their  appearance 
depends  upon  the  needs  of  the  individual  organism  and  of 
the  species  to  which  it  belongs. 

(2)  Instinctive  actions  are  perfected  gradually. 
A  second  characteristic  of  instinctive  actions  is  that 
they  are  perfected  by  slow,  almost  imperceptible 
steps ;  there  are  no  sudden  leaps  in  the  development 
of  an  instinct.  Even  among  the  lower  forms  of  ani- 
mal life,  the  principle  of  gradual  development  holds ; 
thus  the  young  bird  does  not  fly  with  grace  and 
.strength  on  the  first  trial,  and  the  cub-lion  is  able 
only  after  practice  to  stalk  and  catch  his  prey.     In 


362  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

like  manner,  the  child's  impulses  to  reach  and  grasp, 
to  carry  things  to  the  mouth,  to  creep,  to  stand  alone, 
to  walk  and  talk  —  all  come  to  perfection  gradually. 

"To  be  sure',  as  the  author  has  said  elsewhere,  'the  proc- 
ess is  more  rapid  in  some  lines  than  in  others;  but  in  the 
most  rapid  there  are  no  absolute  breaks  which  warrant  one 
in  saying,  'at  this  moment  a  child  lacks  a  certain  ability,  the 
next  he  has  it'.  Hence,  when  it  is  said  that  an  ability  or 
function  seemed  to  burst  forth  of  a  sudden,  it  should  be 
remembered  that  its  sudden  appearance  was  only  seeming 
and  not  actual.  Of  course,  in  this  general  statement  one 
excepts  such  reflex  actions  as  clasping  with  the  fingers, 
sucking,  and  a  few  others  which  are  well  developed  —  though 
rarely  perfect  —  at  birth."  ' 

The  general  rule  with  reference  to  the  maturing 
of  the  instincts  which  belong  more  especially  to  in- 
fancy holds  with  reference  to  those  which  arise  in 
later  years.  Pugnacity,  intellectual  curiosity,  ac- 
quisitiveness, the  hoarding  impulse,  constructive- 
ness,  interest  in  the  other  sex,  for  example,  go 
through  a  period  of  preparation  which  is  controlled 
in  part  by  the  individual's  environment,  and  partly 
by  inner  growth  changes. 

(3)  Instincts  are  interrelated.  We  saw  on  a  pre- 
ceding page  that  it  is  well-nigh  impossible  to  draw 
sharp  lines  of  distinction  between  instinctive  and 
certain  other  closely  related  forms  of  behavior,  e.  g., 
the  reflexes  and  the  acquired  automatisms.  We 
have  now  to  remark  that  it  is  equally  difficult  to 
distinguish  sharply  the  various  forms  of  instinctive 
action.     This  difficulty  appears  when  we  undertake 


*  First  Steps  in  Mental  Growth^  p.  9. 


CONSCIOUSNESS   AND   ACTION  363 

to  trace  an  instinct  to  its  beginnings,  to  search  out 
its  earliest  forms,  and  also  when  we  attempt  to  de- 
termine the  factors  which  are  operative  in  produc- 
ing a  given  result  in  a  concrete  instance  of  instinct- 
ive behavior.  In  truth,  instinctive  actions  are  so 
intricately  interwoven  both  in  their  origin  and  later, 
after  they  are  well  established,  that  the  name  which 
we  apply  to  a  given  instance  of  instinctive  behavior 
is  somewhat  a  matter  of  chance,  and  in  each  in- 
stance is  determined  by  the  special  phase,  which,  for 
one  reason  or  another,  catches  our  attention.  In 
another  work,  the  author  has  likened  the  search  for 
the  beginnings  of  our  several  instinctive  actions  to 
the  attempt  to  trace  to  their  remotest  ends  the  roots 
of  a  bed  of  plants  whose  stems  above  ground  stand 
apart,  but  which  spring  from  a  common  root-stock 
or  from  an  inextricable  net-work  of  rootlets.  In 
both  cases,  the  search  for  beginnings,  in  the  strict 
sense  of  that  term,  is  in  vain. 

It  was  said  in  the  preceding  paragraph  that  the 
close  interrelation  of  the  instincts  is  forced  upon 
our  attention  when  we  undertake  to  determine  the 
factors  in  a  concrete  instance  of  instinctive  behav- 
ior. Suppose,  for  example,  that  we  seek  to  account 
for  a  child's  making  a  collection  of  beads  or  of 
arrow-heads.  If  we  follow  the  lead  of  the  popular 
psychology  of  instinct  we  shall  be  inclined  ofF-hand 
to  ascribe  this  activity  to  the  collecting  instinct,  and 
leave  the  matter  there ;  but  it  is  likely  that  a  closer 
study  of  the  case  would  bring  to  light  several  other 
instinctive  factors,  e.  g.,  interest  in  novel  or  beau- 
tiful objects,  and  emulation,  the  desire  to  do  what 


364  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

some  one  else  has  done  and  on  a  larger  scale.  Sim- 
ilarly, we  may  say  that  most  of  the  plays  and  games 
of  childhood  and  youth  arise  from  the  inter-work- 
ing of  a  number  of  native  interests,  such  as  the  love 
of  excitement,  enjoyment  of  companionship,  and 
rivalry,  in  addition  to  the  native  delight  in  mental 
or  physical  activity.  In  a  word,  concrete  cases  of 
instinctive  behavior  can  rarely  be  accounted  for  by 
reference  to  a  single  instinct;  and  the  name  by 
which  we  designate,  according  to  their  most  conspic- 
uous feature  or  aspect,  individual  instances  of  such 
behavior  should  not  obscure  their  other  essential 
features. 

(4)  Transitoriness  of  instincts.  Transitoriness  is 
characteristic  of  many  instincts,  particularly  among 
the  lower  animals ;  that  is,  many  instincts  ripen  at 
a  certain  age,  then  fade  away  unless  they  are  called 
into  action  by  appropriate  stimuli,  and  developed 
into  habits.  The  classic  illustration  of  this  charac- 
teristic is  that  if  newly  hatched  chicks  are  kept  from 
following  the  mother  hen  for  the  first  eight  or  ten 
days,  their  instinct  to  respond  to  her  call  and  to  fol- 
low her  dies  out.  This  interesting  observation,  first 
reported  by  Spalding  in  what  James  described  as  a 
'wonderful  article',  has  been  confirmed  and  supple- 
mented by  other  observers  of  animal  behavior;  and 
it  seems  to  be  well  established  that  the  instinct  to 
follow  moving  objects,  which  is  strong  in  the  young 
of  many  species  of  animals,  fades  away  if  its  exer- 
cise is  delayed  too  long.  Another  striking  illustra- 
tion of  the  principle  of  transitoriness  is  given  by 
James  who  relates  that  a  Scotch  terrier,  brought  up 


CONSCIOUSNESS   AND   ACTION  365 

indoors,  ''made,  when  he  was  less  than  four  months 
old,  a  very  elaborate  pretence  of  burying  things, 
such  as  gloves,  etc.,  with  which  he  had  played  till  he 
was  tired."  But  since  the  conditions  were  not  pres- 
ent to  transmute  the  burying  instinct  into  a  food 
burying  habit,  the  burying  impulse  was  lost. 

These  instances  may  serve  as  illustrations  of  the 
transitoriness  of  the  instincts  among  the  lower  ani- 
mals. To  what  extent  human  instincts  are  transi- 
tory is  a  matter  about  which  there  is  considerable 
difference  of  opinion.  The  trend  of  the  current 
teaching,  however,  is  on  the  side  of  those  who,  rea- 
soning by  analogy,  maintain  that  since  the  instincts 
of  the  lower  animals  rise  and  fade  away,  if  at  the 
moment  of  their  greatest  vivacity  the  appropriate 
objects  for  their  exercise  are  not  present,  we  may 
expect  a  similar  law  to  hold  true  of  man's  instincts. 

(5)  Instincts  differ  in  strength.  We  have  seen  (1) 
that  while  some  instincts  are  present  from  the  first 
hours  or  days  of  life,  others  are  delayed  in  their  ap- 
pearance; (2)  that  they  come  to  perfection  grad- 
ually; (3)  that  they  are  closely  interrelated,  and  (4) 
that  they  tend  to  fade  away  unless  they  are  exer- 
cised. A  fifth  characteristic  is  that  instincts  differ 
in  strength,  in  the  power  or  energy  with  which  the 
organism  acts  under  them.  First,  they  differ  among 
themselves,  some  instincts  being  more  vigorous  and 
imperious  than  others.  For  example,  the  primitive 
forms  of  the  individualistic,  or  self-preservative,  in- 
stincts— feeding,  fearing,  fighting,  and  the  parental, 
or  racial,  instincts — mating  and  caring  for  offspring 
—  are  stronger,  generally  speaking,  than  sympathy. 


366  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

love  of  approbation,  curiosity,  or  the  collecting  and 
constructive  instincts,  except  in  those  cases  where 
the  appearance  of  the  former  depends  upon  or  in- 
volves the  latter.  Secondly,  many  instincts,  which 
are  present  all  through  life,  are  normally  stronger 
at  some  periods  than  at  others.  Thus,  some  native 
tendencies  have  greatest  vivacity  in  childhood,  others 
in  youth,  and  still  others  are  characteristic  of  man- 
hood and  womanhood.  For  example,  childhood  is 
the  period  of  play  and  the  love  of  physical  activity 
for  its  own  sake,  of  sensational  curiosity,  and  the 
tendency  to  imitate  others'  actions ;  youth  is  marked 
by  the  social  instincts  of  love  of  approbation,  love  of 
society,  sympathy  and  shyness,  by  the  advent  of  the 
mating  instincts,  pugnacity,  desire  for  mastery,  and 
frequently  an  intellectual  form  of  curiosity;  while 
love  of  achievement,  the  struggle  for  place,  power, 
and  influence,  as  well  as  sympathy  and  altruism  in 
their  broader  scope,  are  characteristic  of  manhood 
and  womanhood. 

The  pedagogical  implications  of  the  foregoing  dis- 
tinctions have  been  impressively  set  forth  by  James 
as  follows: 

"In  children  we  observe  a  ripening  of  impulses  and  inter- 
ests in  a  certain  determinate  order.  Creeping,  walking, 
climbing,  imitating  vocal  sounds,  constructing,  drawing,  cal- 
culating, possess  the  child  in  succession;  in  some  children  the 
possession  while  it  lasts  may  be  of  a  semi-frantic  and  ex- 
clusive sort.  Later  the  interest  in  any  one  of  these  things 
may  wholly  fade  away."  ^  And  again  in  another  place  he 
writes:  "There  is  a  happy  moment  for  fixing  skill  in  draw- 
ing, for  making  boys  collectors  in  natural  history,  and  pres- 


1  Talks  to  Teachers  on  Psychology,  p.  61. 


CONSCIOUSNESS  AND  ACTION  367 

ently  dissectors  and  botanists;  then  for  initiating  them  into 
the  harmonies  of  mechanics  and  the  wonders  of  physical  and 
chemical  law.  Later  introspective  psychology  and  the  meta- 
physical and  religious  mysteries  take  their  turn;  and,  last 
of  all,  the  drama  of  human  affairs  and  worldly  wisdom  in 
the  widest  sense  of  the  term." ' 

In  the  third  place,  we  find  enormous  differences 
in  the  strength  of  the  several  instincts  as  we  go 
from  individual  to  individual.  Thus  instinctive  pug- 
nacity, fear,  play,  manipulation,  curiosity,  love  of 
companionship,  interest  in  beautiful  objects,  or  in 
making  collections,  exist  in  different  children  in  all 
grades  of  intensity  from  the  lowest  to  the  highest. 
One  child  is  all  pugnacity  and  courage;  another 
flees  at  the  first  scent  of  danger  and  fights  only  as  a 
last  resort.  Some  children  are  naturally  curious 
about  everything,  are  interested  in  the  beautiful  in 
nature  and  art,  and  enjoy  human  society;  others  are 
seemingly  devoid  of  curiosity,  care  nothing  for  beau- 
tiful objects,  and  would  rather  spend  their  days  in 
solitude.  No  doubt  education  and  experience  are 
influential  in  developing  and  establishing  these  var- 
iations ;  nevertheless,  differences  in  the  native  vigor 
of  the  instincts  are  perfectly  evident  and  unequi- 
vocal. And  it  is  equally  clear  that  the  immense 
range  of  differences  among  grown  persons,  in  re- 
spect to  their  efficiency  and  character,  is  due  in  large 
measure  to  the  differences  in  the  strength  of  their 
individual  instinctive  tendencies. 

(6)  Definite  and  indefinite  instincts.  Some  in- 
stincts are  definite,  uniform,  fixed;  others  are  indefi- 


'  Text-Book   of  Psychology^  p.    405. 


368  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

nite,  vague,  and  variable.  The  comb-building  of 
honey  bees,  the  web  spinning  of  spiders,  the  nest- 
building  of  most  birds,  are  examples  of  instinctive 
actions  which  are  the  same,  or  nearly  the  same,  at 
all  times  and  in  all  places,  and  so  are  said  to  be 
'fixed'  or  'definite'.  That  is,  unaffected  by  changes 
in  place  or  circumstances,  the  honey  bee  builds  the 
same  kind  of  honey-comb,  the  spider  weaves  the 
same  sort  of  web,  the  oriole's  nest  is  made  in  the 
same  way,  generation  after  generation.  In  marked 
contrast  with  behavior  of  this  determinate,  mechan- 
ical sort  are  the  calf's  instinct  to  follow  any  moving 
object  —  its  mother,  a  horse,  a  man  —  or  the  chick's 
instinct  to  peck  at  all  kinds  of  small  objects  — 
crumbs  of  meal,  flies,  nail  heads,  bits  of  yarn,  a 
patch  of  sun-light  —  or  the  little  child's  instinctive 
fear  of  strange  objects,  strange  cats,  dogs,  horses, 
persons,  which  may  serve  as  illustrations  of  'indefi- 
nite', 'variable'  instincts.  The  calf's  instinct  to  fol- 
low moving  objects,  the  chick's  to  peck  at  small  ob- 
jects, the  child's  native  fear  of  strange  things  are 
general,  not  definite,  specialized  tendencies.  If,  how- 
ever, calves  always  followed  the  mother  cow  and  her 
only,  if  chicks  pecked  only  at  edible  worms,  if  little 
children  feared  only  strange  dogs,  then  we  should 
characterize  the  calf's  instinct  to  follow,  the  chick's 
to  peck,  the  child's  to  fear  —  as  fixed,  definite,  spe- 
cialized. 

The  biological  meaning  of  the  varying  definite- 
ness  of  instinctive  behavior  is  that  if  the  environ- 
ment of  a  given  animal  is  simple,  and  so  requires 
only  a  small  number  of  adjustments  for  its  own 


CONSCIOUSNESS   AND  ACTION  369 

preservation  and  that  of  its  species,  then  the  more 
prominent,  relatively,  is  the  animal's  stock  of  defi- 
nite instincts.  On  the  other  hand,  a  complex  en- 
vironment, a  large  variety  of  necessary  adjustments, 
requires  a  stock  of  indefinite,  variable  instincts.  Con- 
trast, for  example,  the  relatively  simple  environ- 
ment of  birds  and  the  relatively  definite  conditions 
of  their  survival  with  man's  highly  complex  environ- 
ment and  the  highly  variable  conditions  of  his  sur- 
vival. Corresponding  to  this  marked  difference,  we 
find,  on  the  one  hand,  the  definite  nest-building,  mi- 
grating, and  food-gathering  instincts  of  birds,  and 
on  the  other,  a  group  of  highly  variable  and  indefi- 
nite instincts  which  control  man's  activities  to  pro- 
vide food  and  shelter.  Thus,  to  give  only  one  illus- 
tration, the  impulse  to  provide  a  place  of  shelter  for 
the  young  appears  among  birds  as  the  definite  nest- 
building  instinct  and  in  man  as  the  highly  variable 
home-building  impulse. 

A  corollary  of  the  foregoing  distinction  of  in- 
stincts as  definite  and  indefinite  is  that  those  ani- 
mals which  possess  a  large  number  of  indefinite  in- 
stincts are  more  educable,  and  have,  other  things 
equal,  greater  possibilities  of  mental  development 
than  those  whose  instincts  are  definite  and  invar- 
iable. Indeed,  the  terms  'definiteness',  'fixedness', 
when  applied  to  instincts,  mean  that  they  are  un- 
modifiable,  and  so  are  not  subject  to  the  influences 
of  training  and  education,  while  'indefiniteness,' 
'variability'  mean  the  possibility  of  modification 
through  training  and  experience. 


370  ELEMENTS  OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

No  doubt  the  high  degree  of  educability  of  children  is  due, 
in  good  measure,  to  the  indefiniteness  of  their  instinctive 
curiosity,  mental  activity,  imitativeness,  pugnacity,  love  of 
physical  activity,  emulation  and  sociability;  or,  put  in  an- 
other way,  if  these  instincts  were  definite,  fixed,  instead  of 
indefinite  and  variable,  children  would  be  far  less  educable 
than  they  are.  Contrast,  e.  g.,  the  curiosity  of  one  of  the 
lower  animals,  say  that  of  a  fox,  which  arises  only  in  relation 
to  those  things — places  of  shelter  and  hiding,  enemies,  things 
to  eat  or  avoid  —  which  are  useful  or  harmful  to  him  and 
his  kind  in  the  struggle  for  existence,  with  the  curiosity  of 
the  normal  child,  his  impulse  to  better  cognition,  which  is, 
within  the  limits  of  his  experience,  unlimited,  and  constitutes, 
as  Kirkpatrick  says,  the  basis  of  his  intellectual  development. 

(7)  Instincts  are  modifiable.  Closely  related  to 
indefiniteness  which,  as  we  have  just  seen,  is  char- 
acteristic of  many  instincts,  is  their  susceptibility 
to  modification,  which  may  occur  in  any  one  of  three 
ways:  (1)  they  may  be  suppressed,  temporarily  or 
permanently,  if  (a)  their  exercise  is  accompanied 
by  discomfort,  as  when  a  child's  impulse  to  pet  a 
dog  is  met  by  angry  snarls,  or  when  an  animal 
learns  from  experience  to  shun  certain  kinds  of 
traps;  or  if  (b),  according  to  the  principle  of  tran- 
siency already  mentioned,  the  situations  or  objects 
which  usually  evoke  them  are  absent,  as  when  a 
child's  love  of  games  and  sports  and  companionship 
fails  to  appear,  or  dies  out,  from  lack  of  exercise. 

(2)  Instinctive  tendencies  are  also  susceptible  to 
modification  in  that  their  original  direction  may  be 
changed.  Familiar  illustrations  are  —  turning  a 
boy's  inborn  pugnacity  and  his  native  love  of  phys- 
ical activity  to  learning  to  do  useful  kinds  of  work; 
or  redirecting  a  child's  curiosity  about  implements 


CONSCIOUSNESS   AND  ACTION  371 

of  savage  warfare  to  a  study  of  primitive  man's 
mode  of  life,  customs,  language,  religion ;  or  a  teach- 
er's transforming  individual  rivalry  or  selfishness 
into  loyalty  and  jealous  regard  for  the  good  name  of 
the  class  or  school  to  which  the  individual  belongs. 
(3)  Instinctive  actions  tend  to  pass  into  habits 
when  they  are  accompanied  by  satisfaction.  Thus, 
to  quote  two  of  Thorndike's  illustrations: 

"The  child  who  instinctively  says  baba  or  mama  in  its 
mother's  presence  and  is  rewarded  by  parental  attention  and 
petting:,  forms  the  habit  of  calling  her  by  that  name.  The 
chick,  in  the  ordinary  course  of  events,  follows  the  hen  for 
a  few  days  because  of  instinct,  but  from  the  second  time  on 
the  force  of  habit  combines  with  that  of  inner  nature;  so 
that  by  the  eighth  or  tenth  day  (when  the  instinct,  if  left 
to  itself,  would  have  vanished)  the  chick  continues  the  now 
habitual  act."  ^ 

The  Principal  Instincts  and  their  Classification,  — 
The  problem  of  distinguishing  and  classifying  the 
principal  instinctive  actions  is,  for  several  reasons, 
one  of  great  difficulty.  In  the  first  place,  these  ac- 
tions are,  as  we  saw  in  the  preceding  section,  so  in- 
tricately interwoven  that  we  can  hardly  hope  to  cat- 
alogue their  various  forms  so  that  each  shall  be 
sharply  marked  off  from  all  others.  Secondly,  many 
forms  of  behavior  that  are  clearly  instinctive  in  one 
species  of  animals,  e.  g.,  the  play,  or  the  collecting, 
or  the  constructive  activities  of  certain  animals,  are 
not  unequivocally  instinctive  in  other  species;  hence, 
a  description  or  a  classification  that  is  valid  for  one 
group  of  animals  may  not  be  valid  for  others.     In 

•  Elements  of  Psychology,  1905,  p.   189. 


372  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

the  third  place,  it  is  extremely  difficult  to  attach  a 
fixed  meaning  to  the  term  'instinct',  for  the  reason, 
already  mentioned,  that  instinctive  behavior  shades 
by  imperceptible  degrees  into  reflex  action  on  the 
one  side  and  into  habitual  and  purposive  actions  on 
the  other.  It  may  also  be  observed  that  there  is  no 
obviously  natural  principle  of  classifying  instinctive 
actions,  and  that  the  classifications  proposed  by  dif- 
ferent authors  are  based  upon  principles  chosen 
somewhat  arbitrarily,  with  the  result  that  they  are 
widely  divergent. 

The  catalogue  and  classification  of  the  instincts 
given  in  the  succeeding  paragraphs  is  a  modifica- 
tion of  the  one  proposed  by  Marshall  in  his  Instinct 
and  Reason,  and  employed  with  certain  changes  by 
Kirkpatrick  in  his  Fundamentals  of  Child  Study, 
and  later,  with  some  further  modification,  in  his 
Genetic  Psychology. 

In  these  works,  instinctive  activities  are  classi- 
fied according  to  the  uses  which  they  subserve.  Ac- 
cording to  this  principle  of  classification  we  are  able 
to  distinguish  roughly  five  classes  of  instincts:  (1) 
the  individualistic;  (2)  the  parental;  (3)  the  social, 
which  together  constitute  the  group  of  fundamental, 
or  primary  adaptive,  instincts;  (4)  the  secondary 
adaptive  instincts,  and  (5)  a  group  consisting  of 
derived  or  specialized  forms  of  the  fundamental 
modes  of  instinctive  behavior.  We  shall  describe 
the  classes  in  the  order  named. 

Individualistic  or  Self-Preservative  Instincts.  —  To 
this  class  belong  all  instinctive  actions  whose  pri- 
mary use  is  the  preservation  of  the  individual  re- 


CONSCIOUSNESS   AND  ACTION  373 

acting.  "The  most  fundamental  and  universal  form 
of  this  instinct,"  says  Kirkpatrick,  "is  the  tendency 
to  contract  the  body  and  withdraw  from  unfavor- 
able stimuli,  and  to  expand  or  approach  toward 
favorable  ones."  In  all  animals,  except  the  lowest, 
this  general  tendency  just  mentioned  is  specialized 
into  three  fairly  distinct  groups  of  actions;  first, 
those  connected  with  the  feeding  process;  second, 
those  which  are  of  use  to  the  individual  in  escaping 
danger;  third,  those  useful  in  fighting  enemies  or 
rivals;  or  briefly,  the  feeding,  fearing,  fighting,  in- 
stincts. 

(i)  The  Feeding  Instinct. —  Perhaps  the  most 
striking  feature  of  this  form  of  animal  behavior  is 
the  enormous  variety  of  devices  employed  by  differ- 
ent species  of  animals  for  securing  food.  Thus,  to 
instance  only  a  few  of  them,  the  amoeba,  which  has 
no  stomach  or  mouth,  simply  wraps  itself  around  its 
food  and  absorbs  the  digestible  particles ;  the  spider 
weaves  a  web  in  which  its  hapless  prey  becomes  en- 
meshed ;  the  young  robin  opens  its  mouth  to  receive 
food  which  is  brought  to  it;  the  chick  or  duckling 
runs  down  and  snaps  up  butterflies  and  grasshop- 
pers ;  the  kitten  lies  in  wait  for  its  prey  and  pounces 
upon  it  when  it  appears ;  and  the  young  of  many  of 
our  domesticated  animals,  pigs  and  calves,  e.  g., 
search  the  mother  for  food  in  ways  which  leave  no 
doubt  as  to  their  instinctive  character. 

Almost  equally  curious  are  the  food-storing  activ- 
ities of  many  species  of  animals.  One  example 
from  the  multitudes  which  are  described  in  books  on 
animal  life  will  suffice. 


374  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

"In  the  case  of  the  California  woodpecker,"  write  Jordan 
and  Kellogg  in  Evolution  and  Animal  Life,  "a  large  number 
together  select  a  live-oak  tree  for  their  operations.  They 
first  bore  its  bark  full  of  holes,  each  large  enough  to  hold 
an  acorn.  Then  into  each  hole  an  acorn  is  thrust.  Only  one 
tree  in  several  square  miles  may  be  selected,  and  when  their 
work  is  finished  all  those  interested  go  about  their  business 
elsewhere.  At  irregular  intervals  a  dozen  or  so  come  back 
with  much  clamorous  discussion  to  look  at  the  tree.  When 
the  right  time  comes,  they  all  return,  open  the  acorns  one 
by  one,  devouring  apparently  the  substance  of  the  nut,  and 
probably  also  the  grubs  of  beetles  which  have  developed 
within.  When  the  nuts  are  ripe,  again  they  return  to  the 
same  tree  and  the  same  process  is  repeated.  In  the  tree 
figured  [in  the  text]  this  has  been  noticed  each  year  since 
1891."  • 

(2)  Fear.  —  Fear,  the  instinct  to  escape  danger, 
according  to  the  authors  just  quoted,  is  even  more 
varied  in  its  manifestations,  than  the  feeding  in- 
stinct. Among  the  lower  animals,  the  usual  modes 
of  escaping  danger  are,  —  running  away,  flight, 
crouching  and  hiding,  uttering  terrifying  sounds, 
and  by  the  use  of  the  defensive  weapons  for  biting, 
scratching,  shocking,  and  stinging.  More  curious 
are,  —  feigning  death  when  danger  threatens,  the 
zigzag  flight  which  many  insects  employ  to  elude 
their  pursuers,  emitting  ofl'ensive  odors  when  at- 
tacked, or  fluids,  which  furnish  the  animal  conceal- 
ment from  its  enemy,  assuming  a  threatening  or  ter- 
rifying appearance,  the  instinct  of  porcupines  and 
the  European  hedgehog  to  seek  protection  in  their 
thorny  armatures. 


Evolution    and   Anitnal   LifCj    1907,  p.   433. 


CONSCIOUSNESS   AND   ACTION  375 

Children's  Fears.  There  are  two  general  causes 
of  the  fear-reaction  in  little  children:  first,  strange 
and  powerful  sense-impressions  which  shock  or  jar 
the  child's  unstable  nervous  system;  and  second, 
apprehension,  vague  or  clear,  of  possible  danger. 

(a)  Sound  Fears.  Observers  of  infancy  agree 
that  the  earliest  instances  of  this  reaction  are  in 
response  to  loud  and  sudden  noises,  such  as  are  made 
by  the  slamming  of  doors,  the  falling  of  articles  of 
furniture,  or  loud  calls.  In  these  cases,  we  have  to 
do  not  with  the  instinct  of  fear,  strictly  speaking, 
but,  as  Sully  observes,  "with  an  organic  phenom- 
enon, with  a  sort  of  jar  to  the  nervous  system." 

"To  understand  this,"  Sully  continues,  "we  have  to  remem- 
ber that  the  ear,  in  the  case  of  man  at  least,  is  the  sense- 
organ  through  which  the  nervous  system  is  most  powerfully 
and  profoundly  acted  on.  Sounds  seem  to  go  through  us,  to 
shake  us,  to  pound  and  crush  us.  A  child  of  four  months 
or  six  months  has  a  nervous  organization  still  weak  and 
unstable,  and  we  should  naturally  expect  loud  sounds  to  pro- 
duce a  disturbing  effect  on  it." ' 

Volume,  or  bigness,  of  sounds  is  mentioned  by  a 
number  of  writers  as  a  property  which  tends  to 
make  them  fearful.  Adults  as  well  as  children  often 
feel  a  vague  alarm  or  uneasiness  at  the  roar  of  a 
storm,  the  firing  of  heavy  artillery,  the  noise  of  a 
big  factory,  the  din  of  a  city  street,  the  noise  of 
great  volumes  of  water  rushing  over  a  precipice,  as 
at  Niagara,  mainly  because  of  the  overwhelming 
nature  of  the  sounds  produced.  In  these  cases  the 
immediate  effect  is  physical  rather  than  mental ;  the 


^studies  of  Childhood^  p.  197. 


376  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

very  bigness  of  the  noise  pounds,  overwhelms, 
crushes  one,  producing  a  "panicky"  feeling,  although 
one  may  be  v^ell  aw^are  all  the  w^hile  that  there  is  no 
danger  of  physical  harm. 

(b)  Fear  of  visible  things.  We  have  seen  that 
the  child's  first  fear  responses  are  reflex  and  not 
easily  distinguishable  from  physical  shock  or  jar; 
also  that  his  earliest  fear  reactions  are  produced 
by  sounds,  and  that  sound  is  the  most  fertile  source 
01  fear  in  adults  as  v^ell  as  in  children.  But  we  also 
instinctively  fear  visible  things  which  are  strange 
or  powerful  or  which  are  sudden  in  appearance. 
Thus  we  have  an  instinctive  dread  of  strange  people, 
strange  places,  strange  animals;  we  are  frightened, 
at  least  for  an  instant,  if  any  one,  even  our  best 
friend  rushes  upon  us  from  hiding;  and  powerful 
visual  impressions  like  those  produced  by  great  sea 
waves,  by  the  rush  of  heavy,  lowering  clouds,  a 
violent  storm,  a  great  conflagration,  the  irresistible- 
ness  of  a  great  water-fall,  the  advance  of  an  army 
of  soldiers  —  are  terrifying  to  many  persons,  and  in 
even  the  stoutest  hearts  they  cause  apprehension 
and  uneasiness  closely  akin  to  fear. 

(c)  Fear  of  animals  —  "How  happens  it,'  asked 
Preyer,^  'that  many  children  are  afraid  of  dogs,  pigs 
and  cats,  before  they  know  the  dangerous  qualities 
of  those  animals?"  How  happens  it  that  many  chil- 
dren show  fear  of  animals  at  so  early  an  age  that  we 
can  hardly  suppose  that  the  fear  is  due  to  ideas  of 
possible  harm?  The  question  has  been  variously  an- 
swered. Preyer,  Darwin,  Hall,  James,  and  others 
believe  the  early  animal  fears  to  be  instinctive.  Hall, 


^The  Mind  of  the  Child,  Vol.   I.   p.    164. 


CONSCIOUSNESS   AND   ACTION  377 

for  example,  says  of  animal  fears,  "More  than  any 
others,  these  fears  seem  like  lapsed  reflexes,  frag- 
ments and  relics  of  psychic  states  and  acts  which 
are  now  rarely  seen  in  all  their  former  vigor."  ^ 
Others  believe  that  most,  perhaps  all,  animal  fears 
are  due  in  the  first  instance,  either  to  the  strange- 
ness of  the  animals,  or  to  suggestion  of  possible 
harm  by  the  speech  or  actions  of  the  child's  com- 
panions. In  the  first  case,  animals  are  looked  upon 
as  intruders,  they  disturb  the  order  of  things  to 
which  the  child  is  habituated,  or  if  the  animal  jumps 
about,  frisks,  or  utters  cries  of  any  sort,  it  becomes 
still  more  frightful.  The  writer's  observations  cause 
him  to  doubt  that  children  have  an  instinctive  fear 
of  particular  kinds  of  animals ;  they  seem  to  show, 
on  the  contrary,  that  animal  fears  are  either  merely 
special  cases  of  the  instinctive  fear  of  all  strange 
things ;  or,  are  due  to  suggestion,  from  some  source, 
of  possible  harm. 

(3)  Fighting.  —  Fighting  bears  the  same  relation 
to  anger  that  the  group  of  defensive  movements  does 
to  fear.  Popularly  stated,  whatever  arouses  an  ani- 
mal's anger  also  excites  to  action  its  inherited  fight- 
ing machinery.  Among  the  lower  animals  the  most 
general  causes  of  anger,  and  so  of  the  instinct  to 
fight,  are  the  appearance  of  an  enemy,  thwarting 
the  gratification  of  native  or  acquired  impulses,  the 
infliction  of  bodily  pain,  or  the  interruption  of  a 
pleasant  sense-experience.  Additional  and  special 
causes  of  anger  in  man  are  —  interference  with  his 
plans  or  purposes,  memories  of  past  insults  or  in- 
juries, and  thoughts  of  possible  future  ones. 


1  Amer.  Jour,   of  Psychology^  Vol.    VIII,   p.    205   ff. 


378  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

The  instinctive  modes  of  fighting  are  as  varied, 
and  many  of  them  are  as  curious,  as  are  the  instinct- 
ive modes  of  securing  food  or  of  escaping  danger. 
Thus,  to  instance  only  the  more  common  ones,  ani- 
mals fight  by  biting,  striking,  kicking,  scratching, 
hooking,  butting,  stinging,  pecking,  stamping, 
squeezing,  and  by  hurling  missiles.  Few  brute  spe- 
cies employ  more  than  two  of  these  methods  of 
assailing  their  enemies,  while  man,  whom  James 
characterizes  as  in  many  respects  "the  most  ruth- 
lessly ferocious  of  beasts,"  employs  almost  all  that 
are  known  among  the  lower  animals  and  many  more 
besides  of  his  own  devising. 

Parental  or  Racial  Instincts.  —  The  list  of  racial 
instincts  includes  the  instincts  of  courtship,  fighting 
for  mates,  the  sex  impulse,  nest-building  and  home- 
making,  guarding  and  brooding  eggs,  feeding  the 
young  and  protecting  them  from  their  enemies.  In 
brief,  all  instinctive  actions  which  are  concerned  in 
the  reproduction  and  care  of  the  young  belong  to 
this  group.  It  is  evident  that  they,  together  with 
the  individualistic  instincts,  constitute  by  far  the 
greater  part  of  the  activities  of  the  animal  world. 

The  Social  Instincts. —  Those  animal  instincts 
which  are  developed  by  group  or  community  life, 
and  which  are  fostered  because  of  their  usefulness 
to  the  group  as  a  group,  are  called  social  instincts. 
Three  principal  ways  in  which  the  social  instinct  is 
manifested  may  be  mentioned:  (1)  gregariousness, 
the  tendency  to  seek  the  companionship  of  others; 
(2)  sympathy,  the  impulse  to  respond  in  kind  to  the 
emotional  expressions  of  others;    (3)    cooperative- 


CONSCIOUSNESS   AND   ACTION  379 

ness,  shown  in  action  with  others  for  a  common  end, 
and  for  the  good  of  the  group,  or  society. 

(1)  Gregariousness.  —  Man  is  sometimes  de- 
scribed as  the  gregarious  animal;  and  Angell  de- 
clares that,  "the  man  or  child  who  in  one  form  or 
another  does  not  natively  crave  companionship  .  .  . 
is  essentially  insane."  Love  of  companionship  is 
also  characteristic  of  many  animals  whose  progen- 
itors banded  together  in  flocks  or  herds,  originally, 
perhaps,  for  protection  and  help.  "Indeed,  the  more 
one  studies  the  habits  of  animals,"  say  Jordan  and 
Kellogg,  "the  more  examples  of  social  life  and  mu- 
tual help  will  be  found.  Probably  most  animals  are 
in  some  degree  gregarious  in  habit." 

(2)  Sympathetic  action,  in  so  far  as  it  is  in- 
stinctive, is  expressive  of  the  innate  responsiveness 
of  an  animal  to  the  emotional  expressions  of  its  com- 
panions. Stated  otherwise,  the  instinctive  sympa- 
thetic responses  of  certain  of  the  higher  animals 
and  of  man  depend  upon  the  fact  that  their  organ- 
isms are  partially  tuned  to  respond  in  kind  to  cer- 
tain emotional  expressions  that  are  characteristic  of 
their  species.  An  instinctive  emotional  expression 
by  one  member  of  a  species  tends  to  awaken  a  sim- 
ilar action  in  other  present  members  of  the  species. 
For  instance,  the  spread  of  the  flight  impulse,  and 
its  correlative,  fear,  in  a  flock,  herd  or  crowd,  is 
often  due  to  this  inherited  tendency.  One  animal  of 
a  flock  or  herd  gives  what  is  for  the  species  a  danger 
signal,  e.  g.,  utters  a  characteristic  warning  cry,  and 
instantly  all  of  its  members  take  to  flight  or  shelter. 
"Children,'  Kirkpatrick  remarks,  'readily  cry  in  ter- 


380  ELEMENTS   OP   PSYCHOLOGY 

ror,  or  laugh  with  glee  when  those  around  do  so.'* 
The  so-called  'expressions'  of  the  emotions  of  anger, 
love,  joy,  grief,  disgust,  and  perhaps  others  of  the 
'coarser'  emotions,  are  contagious  in  this  way;  so 
that  we  may,  within  limits,  speak  of  the  contagion 
of  both  emotion  and  instinct. 

(3)  Cooperativeness.  —  The  instinct  to  act  for 
the  good  of  the  social  group  is  seen  in  its  simplest 
and  most  striking  forms  in  the  communal  life  of  the 
social  bees,  ants,  and  wasps  where  'the  division  of 
labor  is  such  that  the  individual  is  dependent  for 
its  continual  existence  on  the  community  as  a  whole ; 
and  also  in  those  instances  of  animals  banding  to- 
gether for  temporary  advantage,  as  when  a  pack  of 
wolves  cooperate  to  obtain  food,  when  beavers  unite 
to  build  a  dam,  or  in  the  curious  group  activity 
sometimes  employed  by  pelicans  in  catching  fish. 

Authorities  are  fairly  well  agreed  that  the  activ- 
ities enumerated  in  the  foregoing  paragraphs  should 
be  classed  among  the  instincts.  The  food-gathering 
and  food-storing  activities,  modes  of  fighting,  of 
escaping  danger,  the  parental  impulses,  gregarious- 
ness,  responsiveness  to  an  animal  group's  character- 
istic emotional  expressions,  are,  at  any  rate  on  their 
first  occurrence,  and  among  most  animals,  quite  cer- 
tainly instinctive.  But  when  we  pass  to  the  study 
of  such  activities  as  play,  imitativeness,  construct- 
iveness,  acquisitiveness,  communicativeness,  bodily 
adornment,  and  certain  others,  we  encounter  a  wide 
diversity  of  opinion,  the  grounds  whereof  were  men- 
tioned on  page  371  f.  The  nature  of  the  difl^iculty 
in  respect  to  these  activities  can  be  made  clearer  by 


CONSCIOUSNESS   AND   ACTION  381 

two  or  three  examples.  The  play  activities,  for  in- 
stance, of  some  animals  are  undoubtedly  instinctive ; 
one  cannot  observe  the  play  of  kittens,  calves,  lambs, 
puppies,  and  doubt  that  they  are  determined  by  their 
inherited  nervous  organizations.  But  it  is  not  so 
clear  that  the  play  of  little  children  is  instinctive, 
although  it  is  only  one  step  removed  from  tenden- 
cies and  capacities  which  are  pretty  certainly  so. 
The  same  observation  holds  in  reference  to  the  con- 
structive and  collecting  activities.  Among  certain 
of  the  lower  animals,  e.  g.,  birds,  bees,  beavers,  ants, 
spiders,  constructiveness  is  a  genuinely  instinctive 
mode  of  behavior.  The  collecting  impulse,  or  ac- 
quisitiveness, is  no  less  certainly  instinctive  in  many 
species  of  animals,  and  it  occurs  sometimes  entirely 
apart  apparently  from  any  relation  it  might  have  to 
the  animal's  bodily  needs.  But  it  is  extremely  doubt- 
ful if  constructiveness  and  acquisitiveness  should  be 
included  in  a  list  of  human  instincts,  although  they 
too  are  built  upon  tendencies  and  capacities  that  are 
themselves  most  assuredly  innate. 

With  these  reservations  and  restrictions  in  refer- 
ence to  the  use  of  the  term  instinctive  in  describing 
or  accounting  for  a  given  form  of  behavior,  let  us 
turn  next  to  the  two  remaining  groups  of  our  list. 

Secondary  Adaptive  Instincts.  —  All  instinctive 
actions  have  been  useful  in  the  struggle  for  exist- 
ence and  so  have  adaptive  value,  otherwise  they 
would  not  have  been  preserved.  The  groups  already 
considered  —  the  individualistic,  the  parental,  and 
the  social  instincts  —  seem,  however,  to  be  directly 
and  immediately  valuable  in  the  animals'  struggle 


382  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

with  their  environment,  so  have  been  designated  the 
'primary'  adaptive  instincts.  Two  other  forms  of 
instinctive  behavior  —  play  and  curiosity  —  are  also 
adaptive  in  function ;  but  since  their  adaptive  value 
is  not  so  immediate  or  direct  as  that  of  the  instincts 
included  in  our  first  three  classes,  they  may  be  called 
the  'secondary'  adaptive  instincts. 

(1)  Play.  —  Efforts  to  explain  play  activities 
have  given  rise  to  a  number  of  theories,  the  best 
known  ones  being  those  of  Spencer,  an  English 
philosopher;  Groos,  a  German  investigator,  and 
Hall,  an  American  psychologist.  Spencer's  theory 
that  play  results  from  the  superabundance  of  energy 
of  childhood  and  youth,  though  still  the  popular 
explanation  of  the  origin  of  the  play  activities,  has 
been  given  up  by  the  more  careful  students,  who 
accept  either  Groos'  theory  or  Hall's,  or  a  combina- 
tion of  these.  Groos'  theory  is,  in  brief,  that  the 
play  of  animals  and  of  man  is  closely  related  to  and 
determined  by  their  general  instinctive  endowment, 
and  that  when  playing  an  animal  "uses  the  same 
powers  that  his  ancestors  have  used  in  gaining  food, 
avoiding  enemies,  and  securing  the  perpetuation  of 
the  species,  and  thus  exercises  the  powers  he  will 
himself  need  to  use  when  no  longer  protected  by 
parental  care."^ 

Concerning  Groos'  theory.  Hall  writes: 

"The  view  of  Groos  that  play  is  practice  for  future  adult 
activities  is  very  partial,  superficial,  and  perverse.    It  ignores 

the  past  where  lie  the  keys  to  all  play  activities In 

place  of  this  mistaken  and  misleading  view,  I  regard  play  as 


1  KiRKPATRicK,    Child   study,  p.    147. 


CONSCIOUSNESS  AND  ACTION  383 

the  motor  habits  and  spirit  of  the  past  of  the  race,  per- 
sisting in  the  present,  as  rudimentary  functions  sometimes 
of  and  always  akin  to  rudimentary  organs  ....  In  play 
every  mood  and  movement  is  instinct  with  heredity.  Thus 
we  rehearse  the  activities  of  our  ancestors,  back  we  know 
not  how  far,  and  repeat  their  life  work  in  summative  and 
adumbrated  ways.  It  is  reminiscent,  albeit  unconsciously,  of 
our  line  of  descent;  and  each  is  the  key  to  the  other.  The 
psycho-motive  impulses  that  prompt  it  are  the  forms  in  which 
our  forbears  have  transmitted  to  us  their  habitual  activ- 
ities." ' 

The  principal  difference  between  the  theories  of 
Groos  and  Hall  seems  to  be  that  the  former  regards 
the  play  of  the  young  as  a  preparation  for  adult 
activities,  while  the  latter  sees  in  play  merely  an 
echo  of  long  past  racial  experiences.  Groos  thinks 
play  is  a  kind  of  looking  forward  to  the  future; 
Hall,  that  it  is  reminiscent  of  a  far  distant  past. 
Groos  lays  emphasis  on  the  use,  or  adaptive  func- 
tion, of  the  play  activities;  Hall  is  content  to  point 
out  merely  that  play  is  a  rehearsal  of  ancestral  ac- 
tivities; he  ignores  the  question  as  to  whether  it  is 
or  is  not  useful.  We  may  accept  both  theories : 
Hall's  as  to  the  origin  of  play,  and  Groos'  as  to  the 
function  which  it  serves  in  animal  life. 

(2)  Curiosity.  —  Curiosity  may  be  defined  as 
hunger  for  new  experiences,  as  the  desire  to  secure 
and  to  test  new  sensations,  as  'an  impulse  toward 
better  cognition.'  It  is  pretty  evident  that  an  ani- 
mal that  possesses  this  impulse,  provided  it  is  prop- 
erly checked  by  caution  or  timidity,  has  an  advan- 
tage in  the  .struggle  for  existence  over  an  animal 
that  lacks  it.      The  former  will  learn  more  about 


1  Youth,  1908,  p.   73  f. 


384  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

the  advantageous  and  dangerous  features  of  its  en- 
vironment —  about  things  to  eat  or  to  avoid,  places 
of  hiding,  enemies  to  shun  —  and  so  becomes  more 
quickly  adapted  to  its  surroundings,  than  the  latter. 
The  adaptive  value  of  curiosity  to  childhood  is  still 
more  evident.  As  Kirkpatrick  remarks,  'necessity 
is  a  great  teacher,  but  curiosity  is  a  greater  teacher 
in  early  life';  and  the  story  of  man's  struggle  for 
mastery  over  nature  is,  in  large  part,  a  narrative 
of  his  achievements  under  the  guidance  of  his  intel- 
lectual curiosity. 

Derived  or  Specialized  Instincts.  —  This  group  in- 
cludes a  number  of  specialized  forms  of  the  funda- 
mental, or  primary  adaptive,  instincts.  Among  the 
most  prominent  of  these  derived  forms  of  behavior 
are:  (1)  the  collecting  impulse,  or  acquisitiveness, 
the  tendency  to  make  collections  of  all  sorts  of 
things;  (2)  the  manipulating  impulse,  or  the  con- 
structive and  destructive  tendencies;  (3)  the  in- 
stinct of  adornment;  (4)  the  migratory  instinct; 
(5)  the  expressive  instinct,  the  impulse  to  commu- 
nicate one's  ideas  and  feelings  to  one's  companions. 

As  the  group-name  indicates,  these  forms  of  be- 
havior originated  probably  in  the  fundamental  in- 
stincts. For  example,  the  collecting  and  the  manip- 
ulating instincts  were  developed  from  the  food- 
gathering,  food-storing,  and  home-making  activ- 
ities; and  the  instinct  to  communicate  to  others 
one's  feelings  and  ideas  originated  in  the  experience 
that  signs,  gestures,  or  vocal  sounds,  which  are  in- 
dicative of  advantageous  or  dangerous  features  of 
the  animal  environment,  were  useful  in  the  struggle 


CONSCIOUSNESS   AND  ACTION  385 

for  existence.  In  their  later  development,  the  re- 
sultant instincts  are  so  closely  related  to  others  that 
their  identity  is  somewhat  obscured.  The  collect- 
ing impulse,  for  instance,  as  found  in  man  is  often 
prompted  and  supported  by  emulation  and  by  aes- 
thetic or  play  interests;  that  is,  many  of  the  col- 
lections which  men  make  are  prompted  by  rivalry 
or  by  the  desire  to  gratify  some  aesthetic  or  play 
interest.  Again,  many  of  the  constructive  activ- 
ities, so-called,  of  little  children,  e.  g.,  in  building  a 
house  or  bridge  of  blocks,  may  also  be  described,  at 
least  from  the  point  of  view  of  the  on-looker,  as 
either  play  or  imitative  behavior,  since  in  fact  the 
children  are  playing,  and  they  are  imitating  the 
actions  of  older  persons. 

Habit:  Definition. — Any  fixed  mode  of  behavior 
V\'hich  a  person  has  acquired  by  practice  or  repeti- 
tion is  called  a  'habit'.  Instances  of  what  in  every- 
day life  we  call  'personal  habjts'  abound  on  all  sides. 
We  have  habits  of  walking,  of  greeting  our  friends, 
of  taking  our  meals,  of  clothing  our  bodies,  of  sign- 
ing our  names,  of  thinking  and  feeling  about  the 
various  questions  and  problems  which  we  meet  from 
day  to  day.  So  dominant  a  feature  is  habit  in  the 
lives  of  most  grown  persons  that  their  round  of 
daily  activities  is  made  up  in  large  measure  of  ac- 
tions performed  as  habit  decrees. 

Man's  most  conspicuous  habits  are  bodily,  or 
physical,  in  character.  Thus  the  drink  habit,  the 
tobacco  habit,  habits  of  carrying  the  body  in  walk- 
ing, habits  of  speech,  mannerisms  and  idiosyncra- 
sies of  one  kind  or  another  usually  come  to  mind 

25 


386  ELEMENTS   OF  PSYCHOLOGY 

when  one  asks  for  examples  of  human  habits.  But 
man,  particularly  civilized  man,  has  also  innumer- 
able mental  habits,  i.  e.,  fixed  tendencies  of  feeling, 
thinking,  resolving,  in  given  situations.  Moreover, 
man  possesses  many  habits  that  are  partly  mental 
and  partly  physical  in  character;  they  cannot  be 
definitely  classed  in  either  group.  Examples  are  — 
playing  a  musical  instrument,  oral  reading,  spelling 
and  writing  in  easy  composition. 

The  sway  of  habit  is  seen  not  only  in  human  conduct  but 
also  in  the  behavior  of  the  lower  animals.  Thus  domesti- 
cated animals  acquire  habits  of  expecting  food  and  shelter 
at  certain  times  and  places,  of  responding  in  fixed  ways  to 
the  master's  voice,  of  liking  or  disliking  their  brute  com- 
panions. Wild  animals  make  their  way  to  the  same  places 
from  day  to  day  in  search  of  food  and  shelter,  and  to  escape 
from  their  habitual  enemies. 

The  Conditions  of  Habit  Formation.  —  There  are 
three  general  conditions  of  the  formation  of  habits 
in  living  things.  First,  the  law  of  nature  that 
things  tend  to  act  as  they  have  acted  before.  Sec- 
ond, habit  formation  in  animate  things  depends 
upon  the  plasticity  of  the  organic  materials  of  which 
they  are  composed.  By  'plasticity'  is  meant,  to  use 
James'  words,  "the  possession  of  a  structure  weak 
enough  to  yield  to  an  influence,  but  strong  enough 
not  to  yield  all  at  once.  Organic  matter,  especially 
nervous  tissue',  James  observes,  'seems  endowed 
with  a  very  extraordinary  degree  of  plasticity  of 
this  sort."  As  a  third  condition  of  the  formation 
of  habits  in  living  things,  physiologists  cite  also  the 
law  that  living  organs  tend  to  grow  to  the  mode  in 


CONSCIOUSNESS   AND   ACTION  387 

which  they  are  habitually  exercised.  Thus  if  the 
muscles  are  practiced  in  the  performance  of  an  act 
of  skill,  the  growth  processes  tend  often  'to  corro- 
borate and  fix  the  impressed  modification.'  Espe- 
cially in  growing  and  plastic  bodies,  the  growth 
changes  which  occur  during  the  period  of  recuper- 
ation following  intensive  practice  —  say  in  running 
a  scale  on  the  piano,  in  learning  to  operate  a  tele- 
graph instrument,  or  to  write  a  given  script  —  con- 
sist, in  part,  in  building  up  and  strengthening  the 
tissues  involved  in  the  exercise.  This  accounts  for 
the  fact,  frequently  noted,  that  in  acquiring  the 
manual  arts  one's  skill  increases  as  if  by  a  sudden 
leap  during  the  period  of  rest  following  a  period 
of  hard  practice,  so  that  when  the  exercise  is  re- 
sumed the  learner  finds  himself  much  more  profi- 
cient than  when  the  practice  was  discontinued.  The 
observation  of  this  fact  has  led  a  German  author, 
quoted  by  James,  to  say  "that  we  learn  to  swim 
during  the  winter  and  to  skate  during  the  summer." 
Habit  and  Instinct.  —  In  the  paragraph  on  'the 
transitoriness  of  instincts',  it  was  said  that  under 
given  conditions  instincts  tend  to  pass  into  habits. 
The  principal  condition  of  this  transition  is  that  an 
instinctive  action  shall  yield  satisfaction;  if,  on  the 
other  hand,  it  yields  dissatisfaction,  it  is  inhibited 
or  fades  away.  The  principle  of  control,  and  the 
process  by  which  instincts,  at  first  vague  and  indefi- 
nite, pass,  through  exercise,  into  fixed  habits  of  be- 
havior are  illustrated  in  Morgan's  account  of  his 
chicks  acquiring  the  habit  of  pecking  at  and  swal- 
lowing desirable  objects  and  of  avoiding  undesir- 


388  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

able  ones.  At  first,  the  chicks  pecked  indiscrimi- 
nately at  whatever  was  placed  before  them  —  bits 
of  yarn,  match  heads,  tacks,  worms  edible  and  in- 
edible—  any  small  object  that  stood  out  from  its 
surroundings;  but  they  soon  learned  from  expe- 
rience which  ones  produced  agreeable  gustatory  re- 
sults and  which  disagreeble  ones;  and  they  formed 
the  habit  of  picking  up  and  swallowing  the  former 
and  of  avoiding  the  latter/ 

Thorndike's  report,  which  follows,  of  a  kitten's 
method  of  learning  to  open  the  door  of  a  cage,  in 
which  it  was  confined,  in  order  to  get  food,  affords 
another  excellent  illustration  of  the  way  in  which 
habits  are  developed  from  instincts : 

"If  we  take  a  box  twenty  by  fifteen  by  twelve  inches, 
replace  its  cover  and  front  side  by  bars  an  inch  apart,  and 
make  in  this  front  side  a  door  arranged  so  as  to  fall  open 
when  a  wooden  button  inside  is  turned  from  a  vertical  to  a 
horizontal  position,  we  shall  have  means  to  observe  another 
simple  case  of  learning.  A  kitten,  three  to  six  months  old, 
if  put  in  this  box  when  hungry,  a  bit  of  fish  being  left  out- 
side, reacts  as  follows:  It  tries  to  squeeze  through  between 
the  bars,  claws  at  the  bars  and  at  loose  things  in  affd  out  of 
the  box,  reaches  its  paws  out  between  the  bars,  and  bites 
at  its  confining  walls.  Some  one  of  all  these  promiscuous 
clawings,  squeezings,  and  bitings  turn  round  the  wooden 
button,  and  the  kitten  gains  freedom  and  food.  By  repeating 
the  experience  again  and  again,  the  animal  gradually  comes 
to  omit  all  the  useless  clawings,  etc.,  and  to  manifest  only 
the  particular  impulse  (e.  g.,  to  claw  hard  at  the  top  of  the 
button  with  the  paw,  or  to  push  against  one  side  of  it  with 
the  nose)  which  has  resulted  successfully.  It  turns  the 
button  round  without  delay  whenever  put  in  the  box.     It  has 


1  Morgan,    An     Introduction    to    Comparative    Psychology^    1902, 
chs.  V.  XII. 


CONSCIOUSNESS   AND  ACTION  389 

formed  an  association  between  the  situation,  'confinement  in 
a  box  of  a  certain  appearance,'  and  the  impulse  to  the  act  of 
clawing  at  a  certain  part  of  that  box  in  a  certain  definite 
way." ' 

The  same  principle,  namely,  that  instinctive  ac- 
tions which  bring  satisfaction  are  selected  and  that 
those  which  bring  discomfort  or  are  useless  are 
eliminated,  explains  why  certain  special  forms  of  a 
child's  instinctive  behavior  pass  into  habits  and  why 
certain  others  disappear.  For  example,  a  child  may 
either  grab  and  cry  for  articles  of  food  at  the  table, 
or  he  may  imitatively  ask  politely  for  them.  In  the 
former  case,  he  is  either  punished  or  his  request 
is  denied;  in  the  latter,  he  gets  the  food,  and  also 
praise  and  smiles  of  approval.  In  time,  the  child 
learns  to  inhibit  the  grabbing-crying  for  food  im- 
pulses and  to  employ  the  socially  approved  methods 
of  securing  these  goods.  In  brief,  to  repeat  in  sub- 
stance, the  general  principle-  formulated  by  Thorn- 
dike:  any  form  of  behavior  which,  in  a  given  situ- 
ation, results  pleasurably  tends  to  recur  upon  the 
recurrence  of  the  situation ;  and  further  that  any 
form  of  behavior  which,  in  a  given  situation,  brings 
discomfort  is  likely  to  be  inhibited  on  the  recur- 
rence of  the  situation. 

The  Nature  of  Voluntary  Action.  —  A  simple  vol- 
untary action  consists  of  three  easily  discernible  fac- 
tors: (1)  an  image  or  idea  of  the  action  itself  or 
of  its  tcTtal  or  partial  results  —  the  initial  factor; 
(2)  the  desire  that  the  action  or  result  thus  imaged 
or  thought  of  shall  follow;  (3)  the  conscious  control 

^Elements  of  Psychology,  1905,  p.   201  f. 


390  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

of  the  muscular  movements  appropriate  thereto. 
Thus  in  such  simple  actions  as  signing  one's  name, 
or  playing  a  musical  chord,  or  pitching  a  ball  —  if 
they  are  really  voluntary  —  we  have  foresight  of 
the  end  to  be  attained,  we  desire  that  end,  and  we 
consciously  set  about  its  attainment.  We  may  next 
consider  briefly  each  of  these  three  main  factors. 

Foresight  of  the  purpose  of  the  action.  —  We 
have  said  that  the  initiative  factor  of  a  voluntary 
action  may  be  an  image  or  an  idea  either  of  the 
action  itself  or  of  its  results.  For  example,  one  may 
picture  either  pulling  the  gun-trigger  or  hitting  the 
mark,  swinging  the  ax  or  the  tree's  falling.  In  the 
voluntary  actions  of  the  normal  adult,  the  idea  of 
the  result  to  be  attained  is  the  principal  controlling 
and  initiating  factor.  When,  for  instance,  the  stu- 
dent pays  out  money  to  get  a  book  or  to  have  a  place 
to  room  and  board  or  to  see  a  ball  game,  the  end  of 
the  action  is  the  determining  factor.  Occasionally, 
however,  the  purpose  which  controls  a  voluntary 
action  is  an  image  or  idea  of  the  action  itself.  The 
behavior  of  children  affords  numerous  instances  of 
actions  of  this  sort,  e.  g.,  blinking,  altering  the  rate 
of  breathing,  clinching  the  fists,  odd  gestures,  antics 
of  all  kinds  which  terminate  in  the  child's  own  body, 
and  which  have  no  purpose  beyond  themselves. 

Desire  as  a  factor  in  voluntary  action. — We  have 
seen  in  the  preceding  paragraph  that  a  simple  vol- 
untary act  includes  as  an  essential  factor  an  idea  of 
varying  clearness  of  the  action  itself  or  of  its  result ; 
there  must  be  foresight  of  the  outcome  of  the  action. 


CONSCIOUSNESS  AND  ACTION  391 

But  evidently  it  includes  more  than  this  anticipatory 
factor,  since  we  foresee  many  of  our  actions  which 
are  in  no  sense  voluntary.  For  instance,  we  may 
clearly  foresee  that  we  shall  continue  breathing  so 
long  as  life  lasts,  that  we  shall  perform  countless 
actions  from  sheer  habit,  that  we  shall  show  grief 
when  misfortune  befalls  us,  that  we  shall  eat  when 
hungry  and  rest  when  weary,  but  we  do  not  call 
these  actions  voluntary.  In  addition  to  the  factor 
of  foresight,  an  action  in  order  to  be  voluntary  must 
be  definitely  desired.  And  in  order  that  an  action 
shall  be  desired  the  image  or  thought  thereof  must 
touch  our  feelings  in  some  way,  or  it  must  be  related 
to  some  of  our  inborn  tendencies,  or  it  must  accord 
with  a  previously  formed  plan.  Stated  otherwise, 
the  action  must  either  be  clustered  over  with  a  tone 
of  pleasantness  or  unpleasantness,  or  it  must  grow 
out  of  some  of  our  instinctive  longings,  or  it  must 
be  congruous  with  some  earlier  conceived  purpose. 
To  illustrate:  the  idea  of  obtaining  a  university  de- 
gree or  of  visiting  a  foreign  country  arouses  desire 
because  the  idea  has  a  pleasurable  feeling  tone; 
again,  the  dislike  of  being  beaten  by  a  difficulty  or 
of  being  surpassed  by  one's  fellow  students  gets  part 
of  its  character  from  the  impulse  of  pugnacity,  or 
mastery,  in  the  one  case  and  from  our  native  im- 
pulse to  emulation  in  the  other;  and  the  desire  to 
draw  a  check  in  payment  of  a  debt  traces  back  either 
to  one's  habit  of  paying  one's  debts  or  to  the  earlier 
intention  to  pay  this  particular  one. 


392  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

The  term  'desire'  as  used  here  includes  both  its  positive 
form,  as  the  desire  for  good  health,  friends,  etc.,  and  also 
its  negative  form,  'aversion',  with  which,  in  ordinary  speech, 
desire  is  contrasted.  This  seems  warranted  since  aversion 
to,  the  recoil  from,  a  disagreeable  thing  is  in  fact  a  desire 
to  get  rid  of  it.  Our  meaning  is  substantially  the  same 
whether  we  say  that  we  are  averse  to  the  tooth-ache,  to 
foggy  weather,  to  unfriendly  criticism,  or  that  we  desire 
painless  teeth,  fair  weather,  the  good  opinion  of  our  fellows. 

The  motor  factor. — We  have  seen  that  a  voluntary 
action  involves,  first,  an  idea  of  the  end  to  be  at- 
tained —  the  initiating  feature  and  the  principal 
factor  of  control;  second,  a  sense  of  the  value  of 
the  foreseen  end,  which  we  may  call  the  sustaining 
factor.  We  may  consider  next  the  motor  factor,  i. 
e.,  the  method  whereby  the  appropriate  movements 
are  guided  to  the  attainment  of  the  desired  end. 

In  the  everyday  life  of  the  normal  adult  the  motor 
features  of  voluntary  actions  are  controlled  chiefly, 
though  not  exclusively,  by  visual,  auditory,  and  kin- 
sesthetic  sensations,  perceptions  and  images.  The 
manner  in  which  these  factors  operate  to  control 
simple  voluntary  actions  may  be  seen  from  two  sim- 
ple experiments: 

First,  select  a  point  on  the  floor  of  your  study-room  eight 
or  ten  feet  distant  from  where  you  are  sitting.  Call  this 
point  a  mark.  Then  watch  carefully  the  factors  which  con- 
trol your  tossing  some  object,  such  as  an  eraser,  a  nail,  or 
a  coin,  so  that  it  will  light  on  the  mark.  The  guiding  factors 
will  be  found  to  be,  first  and  chiefly,  the  flxation  of  the  eyes 
on  the  mark  which  controls  the  direction  of  the  toss;  second, 
one  may  detect  sensations  from  the  hand  and  arm,  which 
serve  to  gauge  the  amount  of  exertion  required.  That  is,  the 
factors  which  control  such  a  movement  are  —  the  perception 


CONSCIOUSNESS   AND   ACTION  393 

of  the  mark,  and  a  group  of  kinaesthetic  sensations  from  the 
muscles,  tendons,  and  joints  of  hand  and  arm.  As  a  second 
experiment,  let  the  student  observe  the  factors  present  in 
recalling  and  singing-  a  half-forgotten  melody.  He  may,  pos- 
sibly, first  recall  some  of  the  words  as  they  would  look  in 
print  or  sound  when  spoken;  next  he  may  hear,  in  the  mind's 
ear,  some  of  the  notes  or  measures;  at  the  same  time  he  may 
have,  possibly,  sensations  of  strain  and  twitching  from  the 
muscles  of  the  throat  and  the  vocal  cords.  That  is,  it  is  pos- 
sible that  all  three  factors  —  the  visual,  auditory,  and  kinaes- 
thetic, shall  operate  in  the  control  of  the  voice.  But,  as  is 
well  known,  the  manner  in  which  singing  is  started  and  con- 
trolled differs  greatly  among  individuals.  Thus  one  person 
guides  his  voice  mainly  by  the  imaged  tones,  another  by  a 
visual  image  of  the  printed  music,  a  third  by  a  group  of 
sensations  mainly  from  the  throat  and  vocal  cords.  The 
type  of  control  which  is  employed  in  a  given  case  will  depend 
in  part  upon  the  singing  habits  and  training  of  the  individ- 
ual, and  in  part  upon  his  characteristic  image-processes  — 
whether  visual,  auditory,  kinaesthetic,  or  mixed.  The  results 
of  these  experiments  may  be  taken  as  typical  of  what  one 
finds  upon  analysis  of  the  motor  side  of  any  simple  voluntary 
action.  We  may  next  consider  some  of  the  ways  in  which 
our  volitional  activity  is  complicated. 

Deliberation.  —  We  have  observed  on  several  occa- 
sions that  the  attempt  to  isolate  and  detach  elements 
or  features  of  a  total  experience,  for  purposes  of 
better  scrutiny  and  description,  is  likely  to  result  in 
a  partial  and  distorted  view  of  the  actual  course  of 
events.  This  obser\'ation  is  pertinent  in  respect  to 
our  study  of  simple  voluntary  action,  since,  as  is 
obvious  enough,  such  actions  do  not  arise,  in  real 
life,  uninfluenced  by  antecedent  events,  and  since  a 
full  explanation  of  a  given  voluntary  act  must  in- 
clude an  historical  account  of  its  forerunners.     In 


394  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

fact  our  voluntary  actions,  as  is  frequently  re- 
marked, are  expressions  of  our  total  character; 
they  have  a  long  history  which  traces  back  through 
the  influences  and  activities  of  all  our  past  life  to 
our  individual  native  endov^ments.  But  leaving 
aside  this  more  comprehensive  view  of  volitional 
actions,  we  may  pass  at  once  to  the  study  of  Delib- 
eration which,  in  the  opinion  of  many  psychologists, 
is  a  characteristic  of  all  voluntary  action. 

We  must  first  distinguish  deliberation  from  the 
simple  conflict  or  rivalry  of  incompatible  instinctive 
tendencies.  The  latter  may  be  found  at  a  relatively 
early  stage  of  mental  development,  e.  g.,  in  the 
actions  of  little  children  and  in  the  behavior  of  many 
of  the  lower  animals.  Darwin's  well-known  descrip- 
tion of  the  behavior  of  a  cage-full  of  monkeys  when 
a  paper  bag  containing  a  small  snake  was  placed  in 
their  cage,  gives  us  a  striking  picture  of  the  oper- 
ation of  the  contrary  impulses  of  curiosity  and  tim- 
idity.^ Other  familiar  illustrations  of  the  conflict 
of  simple  impulsive  tendencies  are  seen  in  a  little 
child's  desire  to  pat  a  strange  dog  and  his  fear  of 
him,  and  in  the  fox's  greed  and  his  suspicion  of  the 
baited  trap.  In  these  cases  of  conflict  of  impulse 
with  impulse,  we  have  one  of  the  first  signs  of  what 
James  has  described  as  the  'masking'  of  the  real 
nature  of  our  instincts.  But  we  should  not  call  them 
cases  of  deliberation.  The  latter  process  presup- 
poses a  much  higher  stage  of  intellectual  develop- 
ment than  the  simple  push  and  pull  of  conflicting 
impulses.     In  its  simplest  form,   deliberation  pre- 


t 


»  The  Descent  of  Man,  1871,  Vol.  I,  p.   42. 


CONSCIOUSNESS   AND  ACTION  395 

supposes  at  least  some  effort  to  foresee  the  imme- 
diate consequences  of  the  various  proposed  actions; 
in  its  more  highly  developed  form,  we  ask  how  each 
of  the  several  possible  actions,  if  realized,  would 
affect  our  entire  future,  how  they  accord  with  our 
larger  plans  and  purposes,  e.  g.,  our  purpose  to 
secure  a  college  education,  or  our  ideals  of  personal 
character.  Our  first  observation  then  is  that  deliber- 
ation is  to  be  distinguished  sharply  from  the  oscil- 
lation between  conflicting  instinctive  tendencies. 
We  may  next  inquire  more  fully  as  to  its  chief 
characteristics. 

In  actual  life,  deliberation  occurs  in  a  vast  variety 
of  forms  and  with  many  complications.  Ordinarily, 
however,  its  distinctive  features  are  readily  deter- 
mined. It  is  sometimes  described  as  a  mental  see- 
saw, as  a  series  of  attentions  to  two  or  more  con- 
flicting possibilities.  Now  one  alternative,  now  an- 
other appears  vividly  in  consciousness  and  w^e  are 
alternately  attracted  and  repelled  by  each.  It  con- 
sists, in  Titchener's  words,  of  "an  active  weighing 
of  motives  ....  a  series  of  judgments  or  of 
active  imagings"  in  regard  to  the  conflicting  pur- 
poses. We  compare  their  values  as  possible  sources 
of  pleasure  or  pain,  good  or  evil.  These  weighings, 
comparisons,  judgments,  constitute  the  thought 
phase  of  deliberation.  The  process  has  also  a  feeling 
side  which  may  be  either  of  pleasantness  or  of  un- 
pleasantness. If  the  conflict  is  accepted  as  a  matter 
of  course,  or  is  regarded  as  an  inescapable  affair, 
one's  attitude  may  be,  temporarily,  one  of  either  res- 
ignation or  despair;  or  if  the  situation  does  not  de- 


396  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

mand  an  immediate  solution,  and  if  neither  weal 
nor  woe,  prosperity  nor  ruin,  is  a  possibility  of  the 
final  outcome,  that  is,  if  we  think  the  decision  when 
it  does  come  will  not  greatly  affect  our  fortunes 
either  for  good  or  for  ill,  we  may  even  delight  in  the 
difficulty  and  the  intellectual  gymnastic  which  it 
affords.  If,  however,  an  immediate  decision  is  de- 
manded, or  if  it  is  foreseen  that  the  decision  when  it 
does  come  will  be  of  momentous  import  for  all  our 
future,  then  we  may  experience  the  disagreeable 
emotions  of  confusion,  anxiety,  or  even  of  what 
James  calls  'the  dread  of  the  irrevocable'.  The  state 
of  deliberation  is  also  marked  by  the  feeling  of  effort 
which  may  be  either  pleasant  or  painful ;  the  former 
when  we  are  confident  of  our  ability  to  find  the  right 
solution  to  our  problem  and  painful  when  our  cour- 
age pales. 

Decision.  —  The  principal  ways  in  which  cases  of 
deliberation  are  concluded  and  decisions  reached, 
'the  chief  types  of  decision',  they  were  called  by 
James,  are  three.  To  the  first  type,  belong  those 
decisions  which  follow  the  calm  and  persistent  bal- 
ancing of  the  advantages  and  disadvantages  of  the 
several  possible  courses  of  action.  After  a  period 
of  careful  weighing  and  measuring,  one  course 
seems  so  clearly  better  than  any  other  that  the  de- 
cision seems  like  following  the  line  of  least  resist- 
ance. We  may  acknowledge  the  merits  of  the  re- 
jected possibilities;  but  we  believe  that  those  of  the 
accepted  one  are  so  definitely  superior  that  we  go 
forward  cheerfully  and  confidently  in  the  execution 
of  our  plans. 


CONSCIOUSNESS  AND  ACTION  397 

In  a  second  type,  deliberation,  strictly  speaking, 
has  reached  a  dead-lock  and  has  ceased;  neither 
side  preponderates,  we  have  a  drawn  battle,  and 
our  decision  hangs  in  the  balance.  Then  some 
chance  occurence,  often  trivial  in  itself,  tips  the 
scales  and  our  destiny  is  fixed.  For  example,  the 
writer  knows  a  case  in  which  a  young  man  had  con- 
sidered long  and  earnestly  which  of  three  colleges 
he  would  attend,  but  was  unable  to  reach  a  decision 
until  he  was  told  that  a  certain  man,  whom  he 
greatly  admired,  attended  a  certain  one  of  them  a 
half  century  before.  That  ended  the  matter;  he 
would  go  there. 

A  third  type  of  decision  is  characterized  by 
marked  feelings  of  effort  and  anxiety.  Circum- 
stances demand  some  sort  of  a  decision  and  one  is 
made.  Meantime  we  are  sure  that  we  are  sacrificing 
possible  goods,  and  we  are  tortured  by  the  fear  that 
our  choice  may  work  out  disastrously.  Of  this  type 
of  decision  James  writes : 

"Whether  it  be  the  dz-eary  resignation,  for  the  sake  of 
austere  and  naked  duty,  of  all  sorts  of  rich  mundane  de- 
lights, or  whether  it  be  the  heavy  resolve  that  of  two 
mutually  exclusive  trains  of  future  fact,  both  sweet  and 
good,  and  with  no  strictly  objective  or  imperative  principle 
of  choice  between  them,  one  shall  forevermore  become  impos- 
sible, while  the  other  shall  become  reality,  it  is  a  desolate 
and  acrid  sort  of  act,  an  excursion  into  a  lonesome  moral 
wilderness.  If  examined  closely,  its  chief  difference  from  the 
.  .  .  .  former  cases  appears  to  be  that  in  those  the  mind, 
at  the  moment  of  deciding  on  the  triumphant  alternative, 
dropped  the  other  one  wholly  or  nearly  out  of  sight,  whereas 
here  both  alternatives  are  steadily  held  in  view,  and  in  the 
very  act  of  murdering  the  vanquished  possibility  the  chooser 


398  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

realizes  how  much  in  that  instant  he  is  making  himself  lose. 
It  is  deliberately  driving  a  thorn  into  one's  flesh;  and  the 
sense  of  imvard  effort  with  which  the  act  is  accompanied  is 
an  element  which  sets  [this]  type  of  decision  in  strong  con- 
trast with  the  previous  varieties,  and  makes  of  it  an  alto- 
gether peculiar  sort  of  mental  phenomenon."  ^ 

The  Consciousness  of  Effort.  —  The  consciousness 
of  effort,  which,  as  we  have  seen,  is  present  in  both 
deliberation  and  decision,  calls  for  a  few  further 
words.  Every  one  knows  in  a  general  way  the 
nature  of  this  experience  since  it  is  a  conspicuous 
feature  of  our  daily  life.  Mental  or  physical  strain, 
exertion,  struggle,  up-hill  work,  wearing  toil,  are 
the  experiences  which  readily  come  to  one's  mind 
as  'effort's'  congeners.  But  the  questions  of  the 
07'igin  of  the  consciousness  of  effort,  and  of  what  it 
is  in  its  innermost  nature,  are  matters  about  which, 
as  James,  says,  'the  gravest  difference  of  opinion 
prevails.  Questions  as  momentous  as  that  of  the 
very  existence  of  spiritual  causality,  as  vast  as  that 
of  universal  predestination  or  free-will,  depend  on 
its  interpretation'.^  More  particularly,  the  question 
in  debate  is :  Does  the  consciousness  of  effort  con- 
sist, in  part  at  least,  of  a  consciousness  of  mental 
activity?  is  it  made  up  partly  of  the  awareness  of 
the  presence  and  work  of  a  spiritual  force  called  the 
'Will'?  or  does  the  feeling  of  effort  consist  entirely 
of  a  mixture  of  sensations  from  contracting  muscles, 
tendons,  labored  breathing,  accelerated  heart  action, 
and  other  bodily  changes? 

^Principles   of  Psychology^  II,   p.   534. 
2  Op.    cit.,   II;    535. 


CONSCIOUSNESS  AND  ACTION  399 

In  order  to  avoid  confusion  in  considering  this 
question,  we  must  first  distinguish  very  sharply, 
as  Angell  says,  in  substance,  between  the  question  as 
to  the  fact  of  mental  activity  of  the  volitional  kind 
and  the  question  as  to  what  are  the  conscious  rep- 
resentatives of  this  activity.^  There  can  be  no  doubt 
as  to  the  former;  it  is  a  feature  of  every  act  of 
deliberation,  of  every  decision,  eveiy  determination 
to  act  or  not  to  act,  as  well  as  of  all  our  overt,  voli- 
tional actions.  The  controversy  is  in  regard  to  the 
second  question,  namely,  are  we  conscious  in  voli- 
tional actions  of  the  activity  of  a  'Will'  over  and 
above  a  mass  of  sensations,  feelings,  ideas,  judg- 
ments? And  is  the  consciousness  of  mental  activity 
an  unique  and  essential  factor  of  the  consciousness 
of  effort?  In  regard  to  this  question,  it  must  be  said 
that  the  weight  of  introspective  testimony  is  against 
the  presence  of  such  additional  conscious  factor,  and 
in  favor  of  the  view  that  the  consciousness  of  effort 
is  due  entirely  to  the  sensations  which  originate  in 
the  action  of  the  muscles,  joints,  tendons,  organs  of 
respiration,  circulation  and  possibly  other  vaso- 
motor processes. 

It  is  clear  that  this  way  of  conceiving  of  the  nature  and 
origin  of  the  feeling  of  effort,  that  is,  to  reduce  it  to  a  mass 
of  bodily  sensations  plus  a  feeling-tone  of  pleasantness  or 
unpleasantness,  inevitably  leads  to  our  classing  it  among  the 
emotions;  and  this  some  writers,  e.  g.,  Angell,  definitely  do. 
In  that  case,  we  may  say,  paraphrasing  James'  chief  argu- 
ment in  support  of  his  theory  of  the  emotions,  "if  we  strip 
from  the  feeling  of  effort  the  sensations  arising  from  the 
harder  breathing,  the  heightened  heart  action,  the  tense, 
swelling  muscles,  we  shall  find  that  our  feeling  of  effort  has 

^Psychology,  428. 


400  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

evaporated.     .     .     A  disembodied  consciousness  of  effort  is  a 
sheer  non-entity." 

The  Conditions  of  Effort. — Leaving  out  of  account 
the  feeling  of  effort  due  to  the  performance  of  mere 
physical  feats,  such  as  climbing  a  steep  mountain, 
swimming  against  the  current,  or  lifting  a  heavy 
weight,  we  may  next  enumerate  certain  additional 
conditions  of  effort,  or  of  conflict,  which,  as  was 
said,  is  its  most  general  condition.  We  have  just 
seen  that  deliberation  and  decision  are  frequently 
attended  by  marked  feelings  of  effort.  In  both,  the 
conflict  is  either  between  our  impulsive,  or  habitual 
tendencies  on  the  one  hand  and  ideal  motives  on  the 
other  or  between  ideal  motives  which  are  equally 
attractive  but  which  are  seen  to  be  incompatible. 

Earliest  in  appearance  and  perhaps  simplest  in 
form  is  the  effort  experienced  when  one,  for  pru- 
dential reasons,  resists  a  strong  inborn  impulse.  A 
familiar  example  is  the  effort  a  boy  feels  when  he 
resists,  from  fear  of  punishment  or  from  a  sense 
of  duty,  the  impulse  to  follow  his  play  instincts  and 
sticks  to  an  assigned  piece  of  work  which  he  dis- 
likes. Indeed,  the  whole  round  of  lessons  in  self- 
restraint  which  the  child  must  learn  are  so  many 
occasions  of  the  feeling  of  effort.  Briefly,  the  inhi- 
bition of  our  more  imperious  racial  tendencies  is  the 
first  and  most  evident  condition  of  this  experience. 

In  the  second  place,  effort  is  experienced  when 
we  endure  pain  for  the  sake  of  future  good,  or  to 
escape  a  greater  pain,  as  when  one  clinches  his  fists 
and  braces  himself  to  undergo  a  dental  operation  in 
order  to  have  sound  teeth,  to  lessen  the  chances  of 


CONSCIOUSNESS  AND  ACTION  401 

impaired  digestion,  or  to  escape  the  reproach  of 
having  toothless  gums. 

In  the  third  place,  effort  is  felt  when  we  are 
required  to  act  contrary  to  our  habitual  modes  of 
acting.  This  principle  finds  application  in  situa- 
tions differing  as  widely  as  using  a  fork  in  eating 
when  one's  habit  is  to  use  a  knife  and  assuming  a 
reverential  attitude  in  a  religious  ceremony  when  one 
is  commonly  irreverent  in  regard  to  things  religious. 
It  accounts  in  part  for  our  awkwardness  in  social 
gatherings,  for  our  anxiety  when  suddenly  called 
upon  to  act  in  novel  situations,  in  short,  for  the  con- 
fusion and  perturbation  we  experience  whenever 
our  habitual  modes  of  behavior,  personal  or  profes- 
sional, our  accustomed  manner,  attitudes  or  emo- 
tional responses  are  inadequate  to,  or  are  out  of  har- 
mony with,  the  demands  of  the  moment. 

Fourth,  the  consciousness  of  effort  arises  when 
one  is  required  to  choose  one  of  two  incompatible 
ideal  courses  of  action.  Much  of  life's  mental  dis- 
tress grows  out  of  conflicts  of  this  kind.  The  good 
citizen  desires  the  rigid  enforcement  of  the  law; 
but  this  would  enmesh  some  of  his  best  personal 
friends,  so  he  hesitates.  The  young  man  wishes  to 
enter  the  missionaiy  field,  but  this  would  require 
him  to  leave  his  aged  parents.  Brutus  would  serve 
both  his  friend  and  benefactor,  Caesar,  and  Rome 
which  he  loves  so  well : 

'The  genius  and  the  mortal  instruments 
Are  then  in  council;  and  the  state  of  man, 
Like  to  a  little  kinjrdom,  suffers  then 
The  nature  of  an  insurrection.' 

*26 


402  ELEMENTS   OF   PSYCHOLOGY 

Internal  Volitional  Activity.  —  Thus  far,  our  ac- 
count of  volitional  activity  has  pertained  chiefly  to 
bodily  movements,  such  as  mowing  the  lawn,  making 
a  journey,  or  going  to  college,  external  voluntary 
actions  as  they  are  sometimes  called.  We  must  now 
supplement  this  partial  view  by  a  brief  account  of 
the  inner  or  intei'nal  voluntary  actions,  that  is,  the 
volitional  control  of  the  changes  in  the  stream  of 
our  mental  life.  If  we  compare  internal  voluntary 
actions  with  external  ones,  we  find  that  they  differ 
merely  in  the  fact  that  whereas,  in  the  latter,  the 
controlling  and  sustaining  ideas  relate  to  some  sort 
of  bodily  action  or  its  result,  in  the  former,  they  per- 
tain primarily  to  mental  changes,  to  mental  processes 
which  are  only  indirectly,  and  sometimes  remotely, 
related  to  bodily  actions.  As  examples  of  the  voli- 
tional control  of  our  mental  processes,  one  thinks, 
first,  of  the  recollection,  of  forgotten  data,  e.  g.,  the 
names  of  persons  and  places,  or  the  details  of  some 
event  in  our  past  lives,  or  certain  facts  of  history, 
literature,  or  science.  In  these  cases,  we  speak  of 
'willing'  to  recall  the  forgotten  items.  Next,  one 
might  instance  'thinking'  in  all  of  its  forms,  e.  g., 
'willing'  to  compare  the  intensity  of  two  auditory 
sensations,  to  find  the  predicate  in  a  Latin  sentence, 
to  analyze  a  complex  fact  or  situation  into  its  ele- 
ments, or  to  judge  as  to  the  soundness  of  a  given 
argument.  One  might  also  mention  the  volitional 
control  of  the  constructive  or  creative  imagination, 
as  in  designing  a  machine,  in  planning  a  house,  or  in 
composing  music.  It  is  also  possible  to  control  or 
modify  voluntarily  the  emotional  life.  This  control 
may  consist  either  in  the  excitation  or  repression, 


CONSCIOUSNESS   AND  ACTION  403 

partial  or  complete,  of  the  emotional  processes.  For 
instance,  it  is  possible  (as  we  saw  on  p.  322,  note) 
to  arouse  a  wide  range  of  emotions  by  assuming 
their  outward  form.  We  may  'will'  to  be  joyous  or 
sad,  kindly  or  ill-tempered,  light-hearted  or  gloomy, 
credulous  or  suspicious,  to  believe  or  doubt,  to  be 
brave  or  to  show  the  white  feather,  to  be  terror- 
stricken  or  calm  and  self-possessed,  by  assuming 
the  appropriate  bodily  attitudes  and  by  keeping 
vividly  in  consciousness  the  ideas  and  images  which 
support  the  emotion  that  we  are  seeking  to  arouse. 
A  familiar  example  of  the  second  form  of  control  of 
the  emotions  is  the  repression  or  reduction  of  an 
emotional  outburst,  e.  g.,  of  anger,  by  inhibiting  its 
motor  expressions  —  the  clenched  fist,  the  set  jaw, 
the  rigid  muscles,  the  hard  breathing  of  the  passion. 
Finally,  we  may  say  that  any  mental  process  or 
state,  simple  or  complex,  which  may  be  an  object 
of  thought  may  also  be  the  ■  end  or  terminus  of  a 
volitional  process.  Sometimes  the  end  of  the  proc- 
ess is  reached  directly  by  a  series  of  mental  proc- 
esses; sometimes  indirectly  by  a  series  of  bodily 
movements,  as  in  the  case  of  the  emotions,  just  men- 
tioned. 

REFERENCES 

Angell:  Psychology,  Chs.  Ill,  XV,  XVI,  XX,  XXI. 
James:    Principles  of  Psychology,   Vol.   I,   Ch.   IV,   Vol.   II, 

Chs.  XXII,  XXIV,  XXVI. 
Judd:  Psychology,  Chs.  VIII,  XIII. 
Kirkpatrick:    Genetic   Psychology,  1909,   Ch.  IV. 
McDougall:  Social  Psychology. 
Royce:  Outlines  of  Psychology,  Ch.  XV. 
Stout:   Manual  of  Psychology,  p.  581  fF. 
Titchener:  A  Text-Book  of  P.sychology,  §§121-127. 


INDEX  OF  NAMES  AND  SUBJECTS 


Abstraction,   thought  as,   247  ff. 
Actions,   kinds  of,    354. 
After-images,  visual,  88  ff. 

negative    and    positive    distin- 
guished,   89  ff. 
Analysis,  as  a  thought-process, 
276  ff. 
conditions   of,   279. 
ANGELL,    on    relation    of  vege- 
tative processes  to  sense  of 
well-being,   54. 
on   motor  images,    150  f. 
on    instinctive   and   reflex   ac- 
tion,   357  f. 
on  gregarious  instinct,   379. 
on  mental  activity,   399. 
on  consciousness  of  effort,  399. 
Articular  sensations,   112. 
Association,     meaning     of     the 

term,    187. 
Association   areas  in   cortex,    36. 

function  of,   37. 
Association   fibres,    33. 
Associative    neurones,    66. 
Associative    connections,    185  ff. 

variations  among,  189  ff. 
Associations,    conditions   of   for- 
mation of,  193  ff. 
Auditory      nerve      terminations, 

62  f. 
Auditory  sensations,   97  ff. 
Automatic   movements,   354  f. 
Attention,    the   nature  of,    161  ff. 
the   conditions   of,    163  ff. 
the  motor  concomitants  of,  170. 
the    sensory    concomitants    of, 

173  ff. 
the   degrees    of,    174  ff. 
the    range    of,    176  ff. 
the  forms  of,   178. 
voluntary,    179. 
involuntary,    179. 
non- voluntary,    180.  ^ 

popular  view  of,   181. 


Beats,    102. 

Brain,   described,    19  ff. 

CALiKINS     on     components     of 
pain   sensations.    111. 
on   involuntariness  of  percep- 
tion,   140,    153,    156. 

Cerebral    convolutions    and    fis- 
sures,   24. 

Cerebral    functions,    localization 
of,    38  ff. 

Cerebral    lobes    and    inter-lobar 
fissures,    24  ff. 

Cerebral  peduncles,   22. 
Cerebellum,  22  f. 
Cerebrum,   23  ff 

white  matter  of,   31  ff. 
Color  blindness,   91  ff. 

statistics  of,   92. 

inheritance  of,   92  f. 

tests   for,    93  f. 

Color   mixture,    86  ff. 

Color  pyramid,   84  f. 

Color   zones   of   retina,    94  ff. 

Commissural    fibres,    34. 

Comparison   as   a  thought-proc- 
ess,  269  ff. 

Sully  on,   269. 

Stout  on,   269. 

conditions   of,   270  ff. 
CONDILLAC   quoted,   75. 
Consciousness  meaning  of  term, 
1. 

synonyms    of,    1  f. 

and  nervous  system,  14  ff. 

function   of  human,    351  ff. 
Co-operation,   instinctive,    380  f. 
Cortex,    the    cerebral,    28  ff. 

the  cell-bodies  of,  30. 

nerve  fibres  of,  31  f. 

Cortical   areas,    three    types    of, 
.   34  ff. 

Cranial  nerves,   49  f. 

(405) 


406 


INDEX  OF  NAMES  AND  SUBJECTS 


Cramming,   222  ff. 
Jevons  on  value  of,   223. 
James   on,    224. 
Abercromble  on,   224. 
SULLY   on,   223. 
Titchener  on,   225. 
Curiosity,    383  f. 
Cutaneous    sensations,    ].)7  ff. 
DARWIN  on  fear,   316. 
on  rage,  317. 

on  genesis  .it  emotional  reac- 
tions,   326  ff. 
on   contra'-y  impulses   of  cur- 
iosity  and    timidity,    394. 
Decision,  James,   eliief  types  of, 

396. 
Deliberation,    393  ff. 
Dewey,   referen'^e,    325. 
Discrimination,    372  ff. 
and  differentiation,   273  f. 
individual  differences  in,  274  ff. 
DONALDSON,    on  inheritance  of 

color-blindness,   93. 
EBBINGHAUS,    on    influence   of 
associatioi     on     feelingtone 
of  experience,  313. 
Effort,    consciousness    of,    39S  f. 
conditions  of,   400  f. 

Emotion,   meaning  of  the  term, 
315. 
distinctive  mark  of,   315. 
factors   of,   316  ff. 
and  feeling,   317  f. 
cognitive  factor  in,  319. 
James-Lange  theory  of,  319  ff. 
and   sentiment   compared,    334 

ff. 
and  instinct,  359  f. 
Emotional  reactions,  genesis  of, 

325  ff. 
Equivocal  figures,   131  ff. 
Fear,    bodily  signs   of,   316. 
instinct  of,   374  ff. 
in   children,   375  ff. 
FECHNER,     pioneer     study     of 
imagery,  146. 


Peeling,    meaning    of    the    term, 

289  f. 
number    of   kinds    of,    291  ff. 
the   mental    conditions   of,    295 

ff. 
as    function    of   the    attributes 

of   sensations,    295. 
and  organic  sensations,   296  ff. 
and  conative  tendencies,  296  ff. 
and       instinctive       tendencies, 

297  f. 
dependent  on  both  special  and 

organic    sensations,    301  f. 
and     attributes     of     intensity 

and  duration,   303  f. 
the  neural  correlates  of,   304  ff 
and     anabolic     and     katabolic 

processes,    306  f. 
and     hindrance    and     further- 
ance,  307  ff. 
and  habit,   309  f. 
and   association,   312  f. 
transference  of,  313  f. 
as  a  factor  in  emotion,   317  f. 
Feedin.g    instinct,    373  f. 
Fighting  instinct,   377  f. 

FLECHSIG,  on  association 
areas,    36. 

PLOURENS,  on  functions  of 
cerebrum,   39. 

PRITSCH  and  HITZIG,  on  local- 
ization of  cerebral  functions, 
39. 

GALL'S  phrenology,   38  f. 

GALTON'S  questionaire  on  im- 
agery,   147  f. 
on    verbal    imagery,    152,    155. 

Generalization,  281  ff. 

General   ideas,    origin   of,    283  ff. 

Gregariousness  an  instinct,  378  f. 

GROOS,   theory  of  play,   382  f. 

Habit,    definition   of,    385. 
conditions  of  habit  formation, 

386. 
and  instinct,   359,   371. 

HALL,  on  fear  of  animals,  376  t. 
on  play,   382  f. 

Hallucination,  133  ff. 


INDEX  OF  NAMES  AND  SUBJECTS 


407 


HARDESTY.  quoted,  19. 
on    3>-mpathetic    nervous  sys- 
tem,  51  ff. 
Harmonic    intervals,    102. 
HOBBES,    on    association,    1S6. 
HOWELL,   on  function  of  cere- 
bellum,  22  f. 
on  termination  of  taste-fibres, 

41. 
on    color-blindness,    91  ff. 
HUXLEY,   use  of  term   psycho- 
sis,  2. 
statement   of    law   of    psycho- 
neural  perallelism,    15. 
Idea     and     image,     how     differ, 

143  ff. 
Idea     and     Ideate,     the     terms, 

246  f. 
Ideation,    thought  as,   246  f. 
relation  of  judgment  and,  255 
f. 
Illusions  of  perception,  125  ff. 
classes  of,   126. 

of     abnormal      consciousness, 
130. 
Illusion    figures,    128  f. 
Image     and    percept     compared, 
138  ff. 
and   idea   compared,    143  ff. 
Images,    type,    145. 

class,    145  f. 
Imagery,    individual    differences 
In,  146  ff. 
Galton's  questionaire  on,  147  f. 
types  of  mental,  149  f. 
symbol,   152. 
verbal,   154  ff. 

differences  In  the  attributes  of 
characteristic,    157  ff. 
Imaglnal    and    ideational    proc- 
esses,   sequence    of,    205  ff. 
Imagination,    defined,    228. 
Imaginative    activity,    types    of, 
228  ff. 
limits  of,   231  ff. 
passive  and  active  ditingulsh- 

ed,   233  f. 
beginnings  of,   234  ff. 


individual         differences        in, 
237  ff. 

Imitative    actions,    as  sensation 

reflexes,   356  f. 
Individual  differences  in  mental 

imagery,    146  ff. 
Instinctive     actions,     definition, 
357. 

and   reflexes,    357. 

and    volitional    actions,    358  f. 

and   habit,   359. 
Instincts,    and    emotion,    359  f. 

characteristics   of,    360  ff. 

delayed,   360  f. 

are  perfected  gradually  361  f. 

are   interrelated,    362  ff. 

transitoriness  of,    364  f. 

differences      in     strength     of, 
365  ff. 

definite   and   indefinite,    367  ff. 

are    modifiable,    370  f. 

tend   to  pass  into  habits,    371. 

classification  of  the  principal, 
371  ff. 

individualistic,    372  ff. 

parental  or  racial,   378. 

social,    378  ff. 

primary  and  secondary  adap- 
tive,  381  f. 

resultant  or  specialized,   384  f. 

masking  of,   394. 
JAMES,  on  function  of  associa- 
tion areas,  38. 

on    nature    of   sensation,    71. 

definition    of   perception,    116. 

on  hallucination,   134  f. 

on  faculty  of  Imagination,  146. 

on      memory       consciousness, 
200  f. 

on    associative    revival,    208. 

on  the  value  of  cramming,  224. 

on    the   nature  of  thinking,  241. 

on    the    conditions  of  analysis, 
279  f. 

on  generalization  as  a  psychic 
state,   281  f. 

on  emotion,  319  ff. 


408 


INDEX  OF  NAMES  AND  SUBJECTS 


on    the    genesis    of    emotional 

reactions,    327. 
on    function    of    human    con- 
sciousness,   351  f. 
on     appearance     of     instincts, 

366  f. 
on     chief     types     of    decision, 

396  ff. 
on  consciousness  of  effort,  398. 
JAMES-LANGE   theory  of  Emo- 
tion,  319  ff. 
objections  to,   322  ff. 
JORDAN     and     KELLOGG,     on 
food-storing      activities      of 
certain   animals,    374. 
JUDD,    on   association   by   simi- 
larity, 213. 
on  effects  of  nervous  impulses, 
353  f. 
Judgment,    thought    as,    252. 
as   synthesis,    252. 
of  objective  relations,  253  f. 
and   reasoning,    256  f. 
Kinaesthetic  senses.   111  f. 
Kinaesthetic  images,  Angell  and 
Titchener     on     question     of, 
150  f. 
KIRKPATRICK,      on      imitative 
actions,   357. 
on     the    classification     of     in- 
stincts,   372. 
statement  of  Groos'   theory  of 
play,  382. 
KULPE,  on  quality  as  sensation 
attribute,   78. 
on     sensory     concomitants     of 
attention,    173  f. 
LADD,    on   feelings   of  pleasure, 
294. 
on  sentiment,   338. 
LANGE,      JAMES  —  theory      of 

emotion,    391  ff. 
MARSHALL,     on     classification 

of  instincts,     372 
McDOUGALL,     on     'storing'     of 
ideas,   202. 
on    feeling-tone    of    sensation, 
302. 


Medulla  oblongata,  21. 
Memory,   definition   of,    198. 
factors  of  a,    198  ff. 
the  conditions  of,   201  ff. 
and  imagery,   216  f. 
individual    differences    in,    218 
ff. 
Memories,    Hamilton    on    prodi- 
gious,  226  f. 
Mental  blindness,  43. 
Mental  deafness,   43. 
Mental  image,  term  defined,  137. 
Mental   imagery,    types   of,  149  f. 
MENTELLI,  a  typical  intellect- 
ual  miser,    342. 
MILL,     J.     S.     on     function     of 

thought,   243. 
Mind,    meaning   of   term,    1;184. 
Mixed     type  of  imagery,  describ- 
ed by  Titchener,   151. 
MORGAN,  on  habit  formation  in 

chicks,    387. 
Motor  cortical  areas,   35  f. 
Motor   neurones    and    motor   or- 
gans,   66. 
Movements,   automatic,   354  f. 
Muscular   sensations,    112. 
Nervous    system,    general    view 
of,   17  ff. 
divisions  of,    19. 
Neurone,  55  f. 

Neurones,    chief    groups    of,  55  f. 
Sensory  and  sense  organs  57  ff. 
Olfactory    stimulus,    103  f. 
Optic    nerve    fibres,   termination 

of,    63  f. 
Organic  sensations,  114  f. 

Titchener    on     knowledge     of, 

114. 
as    factors    of    emotion,    316  f., 

320  f. 
and  tone  of  consciousness,  53, 
355. 
Pain,    sensation   of,    110  f. 
Perception,   defined,   116. 
and     sensation     distinguished, 
117. 


INDEX  OF  NAMES  AND  SUBJECTS 


409 


genesis  of,    118  ff. 
illusions    of,    126  ff. 
Perceptual     stimuli,     variations 

of,   122  f. 
Perceptions  of  particular  things, 

variations   in,   123  ff. 
Percept    and    image    compared, 

138  ff. 
Peripheral    nervous    system,    48 

ff. 
Phrenology    of   Gall   and    Spurz- 

heim,   34  f. 
PIERSOL,    on   structure   of  oto- 
lith membrane,   113. 
PILLSBURY,      on      the      neural 
basis   of   hallucinations,    135. 
experiment   on   attention,    168. 
on     the     range     of     attention, 
177  f. 
Pitch,  99. 

Play,    theories  of  Spencer,  Groos, 
and    Hall,    concerning,  382  ff. 
Pons  Varolii,   21  f. 
Pressure,    sensations    of,    108. 
PREYER,    on    children's    fears, 

376. 
Projection  fibres,   31  f. 
Psychology,    defined,    1. 
divisions  of  the  field,  of,   2  f. 
normal    and    abnormal    distin- 
guished,  2. 
Titchener's      classification      of 

the  fields  of,  4. 
the   methods   of,   5  f. 
points  of  view,  7  ff. 
subject-matter     of      introduc- 
tory course  in,    11  ff. 
Psycho-neural    correlation,    law 

of,  15. 
Pure   sensation,    74  f. 
Racial   instincts,   378. 
Rage,    symptoms   of,    317. 
-I  Reasoning,   judgment  and,  256  f. 
defined,   257. 
explicit,    258  f. 

and   reasoned   judgments   dis- 
tinguished,   260  f. 


implicit,   262  f. 

inductive    and   deductive,    dis- 
tinguished,   264  f. 
Recall,    active   and    passive    dis- 
tinguished,  214  ff. 
Recollection,    214,    402. 
Reflex  action,  defined,  355. 

pure,    and    sensation    reflexes 
distinguished,  356  f. 

imitative  actions  as,  356  f. 
Retention,   how  explained,   203  f. 
Retina,   64  f. 

color   zones   of,    94  ff. 
Revival,   the  process  of,   204  f. 

secondary  laws  of  associative, 
207  ff. 

spontaneous,    210  f. 

through    similarity,    211  ff. 
RIBOT,     quotation     from     Men- 

telli's  biography,   342. 
SEASHORE,    on   color   zones   of 
retina,    96. 

on  distinction  of  pain  and  un- 
pleasantness,   110. 

questions    on    imagery,    149  f., 
158,    159. 
Sensation,   defined,   69. 

as  mental   element,   69  f. 

,and  stimulus,   71  f. 

cognitive    function    of,    72  f. 

as  earliest  form  of  conscious- 
ness,  73  f. 

pure,    74  f. 

attributes    of,    77  ff. 
.Sensations,  classificatidn  of,  80  f. 

visual,    82  ff. 

auditory,   97  ff. 

of  smell,   103  ff. 

of  taste,   105  ff. 

cutaneous,    107  ff. 

of  pressure,   108. 

of  temperature,   109. 

of  pain,   110  f. 

kinaesthetic.    111  ff. 

organic,    114  f. 
Sensory  cortical  centers,  35  f. 
Sensory  endings,   free,   59. 

encapsulated,    59  f. 


410 


INDEX  OF  NAMES  AND  SUBJECTS 


Sensory     qualities,      differentia- 
tion of.   75  ff. 
Sense-organs,    the   special,    61  ff. 
Sentiment,  meaning  of  the  term, 
333. 
and  emotion  compared,   334  ff. 
Stout  on,  336. 
Shand,    on,    338  f. 
Sentiments,    intellectual,    340  ff. 
moral,   342  ff. 
aesthetic,   347  ff. 
SHAND,    on    nature    of    senti- 
ment,  333  f. 
Similarity,       revival       through, 

211  ff. 
Smell,  organ  of,   62. 
relations  of  sensations  of,  104. 
classes  of  sensations  of,  104  f. 
Social   instincts,    378  ff. 
Somaesthetic     area     in     cortex, 

41  f. 
Spinal  cord,  structure  of,  44  f. 

functions  of,  46  f. 
Spinal  nerves,   51. 
SPURZHEIM'S    phrenology,  38  f. 
Stimulus  defined,   71  f. 

maximal  and  minimal,  71  f. 
STOUT,   on,  distinction  between 
cause   of  sensation   and   the 
object    of    sense-perception, 
72. 
on  the  difference  between  per- 
cept and  image,   140. 
on  verbal  imagery,   153. 
on   the   conditions  of  associa- 
tion,  195. 
on      the      serviceableness      of 

memory,  219  f. 
on  comparison,   269. 
on   feeling  and   conative    ten- 
dencies,  296  f. 
on      question,      are      pleasant 
stimuli  beneficial,  306. 
on  the  James-Lange  theory  of 

emotion,   323  ff. 
on  sentiment,  333  ff. 


on     relation    of    emotion     and 

sentiment,    336. 
on  organic  sensations,  355. 
SULLY,  influence  of  association 
on    feeling-tone    of    experi- 
ence,  312  f. 
on     beginnings     of     aesthetic 

sentiment,  348. 
on  sound  fears,  375. 
Sympathetic      nervous     system, 

51  ff. 
Sympathy,  instinctive,  379. 
Taste,   organs  of,   61. 
distribuation  of  organs  of,  105 
f. 

Taste    sensations,     classes     and 

relations  of,    106  f. 
TAYLOR,   on  location  of  motor 

region    of    cortex,    35. 
on  connections  of  the  auditory 

nerves,   36. 

Temperature,       sensations       of, 
109  f. 

Tendinous    sensations,    112. 
Thinking,    the    nature   of,    241  ff. 
THORNDIKE,     on    function     of 
associative    neurones,    67. 
on    development    of    world    of 

sense,   71. 
on    tendency    of    instincts    to 

pass  into   habits,   371. 
on      development      of      habits 
from   instincts,    388. 
Thought  as   ideation,   245  f. 
as   abstraction,    247  ff. 
as  judgment,   251. 
vehicles    of,    266  ff. 
beginnings  of,   286  ff. 
Thought-processes,  as  functions, 
243  f. 
classes  of,   244  f. 
Timbre,    101  f. 

TITCHENER,     classification    of 
psychology  by,   3  f. 
on    function    of    free    sensory 
nerve  endings,   59. 


INDEX  OF  NAMES  AND  SUBJECTS 


411 


on  the  functions  of  various 
encapsulated  sensory  end- 
ings,   59  f. 

on  sensation  as  structural 
element,    70. 

on  the  attributes  of  sensa- 
tion,  78  f. 

on  colour  mixture,  87  f. 

on  the  difference  between 
tones   and    noises,    99. 

on    difference    tones,    102  f. 

classification  of  sensations  of 
smell,    104  f. 

on   antagonistic   tastes,    107. 

on  sensations  of  pressure,  108. 

on  distribution  of  tempera- 
ture organs,   109. 

on  touch  blends,  113  f. 

on  weight  illusion,  133. 

on  mental  imagery,  148. 

on  mixed  types  of  imagery, 
151. 

on  auditory-kinaesthetic  im- 
ages, 157. 

on  the  memory  consciousness, 
200  f. 

on  cramming,   225. 

on  the  development  of  the 
concept    'attribute',    250  f. 

on  general   ideas,   282. 

on    the   term    'feeling',    289. 


on       Wundl's       tridimensional 
theory    of    feeling,    293  f. 
Tones  and  noises  distinguished, 

99. 
Tones,   attributes   of,    99  f. 
classes   of,    101  f. 
compound,   101. 
difference,    102. 
Touch-blends,    Titchener's,  113  f. 
\'erbal  imagery,   James  on,   154. 
kinds   of,    154  f. 
Calkins   on,    156. 
Visual     sensations,     classes     of, 

82  f. 
Volitional  action,   the  nature  of. 
389  ff. 
factors  in,   389  ff. 
Volitional  activity,  internal,  402. 
WASHBURN,    on    the    origin   of 
the     consciousness     of     'if, 
'but',    etc.,    267  f. 
'Will',  the  alleged  consciousness 

of  a,    398  f. 
WUNDT,  on  localization  of  cer- 
ebral functions,  40  ff. 
kinds  of  feeling  according   to, 

292  f. 
on  the  James-I..ange  theory  of 
emotion,   322  f. 
Zones,   retinal,   94  f. 


INDEX  OF  FIGURES. 

FIGURE.  PAGE. 

1.  Nervous  System,  Genei-al  arrangement  of  human.  16 

2.  Central  Nervous  System,  ventral  aspect  of  the. .  18 

3.  Brain,  inferior  aspect  of  human 20 

4.  Brain,   superior  aspect   of  human 23 

5.  Brain,  lateral  aspect  of  human 25 

6.  Brain,  mesial  aspect  of  human 26 

7.  Cortex,  section  of 30 

8.  Peduncular  fibres  of  cerebrum 32 

9.  Association  fibres  of  cerebrum 33 

10.  Commissural  fibres  of  cerebrum 34 

11.  Cross-section  of  spinal  cord 45 

12.  Principal  functions  of  spinal  cord 47 

13.  Sympathetic   nervous    system,    general   plan    and 

connections  of 52 

14.  Typical  cell-bodies  of  neurones 54 

15.  Phylogenetic  and  ontogenetic  development  of  nerve 

cells 56 

16A.     End-bulb  of  Krause 58 

16B.     Meissner  corpuscle    58 

16C.     Motor  'end-plate'  in  voluntary  muscle 58 

16D.     Free  sensory  nerve  endings 58 

16E.     Motor  termination  in  non-striated  muscles 58 

16F.     Termination  of  sensory  nerve  in  tendon 58 

16G.     Pacinian  corpuscle 58 

17.  Taste-bud    61 

18.  Olfactory  cells   62 

19.  Diagrammatic  section  through  right  ear 63 

20.  Horizontal  section  through  left  eye 64 

21.  Diagrammatic  section  of  the  retina 65 

22.  The  color  pyramid 84 

23.  The  color  circle 88 

24.  Figure  to  demonstrate  negative  after-image. ...  90 

(412; 


INDEX  OF  FIGURES  413 
FIGURE.                                                                                                                      PAGE. 

25.  Color  fields  of  right  eye 95 

26.  Properties  of  sound  waves 98 

27.  Illusion  figures:   Miiller-Lyer  and  Zollner 128 

28.  Illusion  figures:    Hering's,  et.   al 129 

29.  Equivocal  figure:   rabbit-duck 130 

30.  Equivocal  figure:   superimposed  triangles 131 

31.  Equivocal  figures    132 

32.  Diagram  illustrating  variations  in  degrees  of  at- 

tention       177 

33.  Diagram  of  association  through  similarity 213 

34.  Diagram  of  Wundt's  three  dimensions  of  feeling.  292 


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